


Am I...Ginger?

by The_Red_Rabbit



Series: Am I...Ginger? [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Agonizing slow burn, F/F, F/M, Found Family, centuries long slow burn, deconstruction of romance tropes, deconstruction of the concept of a mary sue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2020-09-01 05:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 53
Words: 432,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20252752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Red_Rabbit/pseuds/The_Red_Rabbit
Summary: The Doctor swore off companions after Journey's End, believing himself too dangerous to be around them. But while looking for members of the Trickster's Brigade, he stumbled upon a child of Torchwood that made him question all that.Of course, there's another problem. He was warned that the Trickster had a weapon, one that could defeat him once and for all. He follows the clues to London, where he finds a nameless woman whose love of history does not include sharing her own. Could she be the weapon he was warned about? Is he just interested in her as a distraction from his own mortality? Can she be saved this time? Can any of them? Or are they doomed to life the way it was written?(Set between the Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith and the Waters of Mars.)(There are trigger warnings, but as always it only applies to one specific chapter and potential mentions. But this will deal with issues that people might find distasteful.)(Season 1)





	1. Nobody's Home

**Author's Note:**

> This story began on August 18th, 2010. I'd just discovered Doctor Who and had made it as far as the End of Time, and I wrote my first serial fanfic on DeviantART at the age of 15. This one. "Am I...Ginger?" 
> 
> It was a bit of a joke in a way. A companion named Ginger, forever taunting the Doctor because he couldn't BE ginger. But then I stole her name. Became Ginger. Legally changed my name to hers when I turned 18.
> 
> Because the thing is, that I was being abused. This story came out of my troubled home life. I thought at the time that I had to be edgy and dark, because life was just like that. So I killed Ginger at the end of the story. Had the most codependent ending ever - I made her the heart of the TARDIS. But I picked the story back up recently and changed almost everything about it, because now I can see the value in stories about healing. I'm 24, I've moved completely away and cut off everyone toxic in my life. Now this is a story I can be proud of. I had this shame about it for a long time because it was another Mary Sue self-insert, but now I recognize it for the coping skill it is. And I'm owning that shit.
> 
> If you want a rundown of my particular backstory, I do talk about it a lot now. I did also give a brief note about it on my Good Omens fic "As Heaven is Wide". Like I've said, there is a trigger warning applicable for physical, emotional, psychological, and sexual abuse. There's also one for suicide. There is a HEAVY pulling of things from my actual life and the lives of people I've known, and for the most part I leave the graphic depictions out and use it as backstory. This is a story about growth.
> 
> But this story begins with Alex. Alex Mitchell was created by my now girlfriend, (Super-Skitty on Tumblr), who I was best friends with since the beginning of this story. Only problem is that she's English and I'm American so we've never met. This story has a lot of points where it's a collaboration with Skitty, but this chapter is one of the most glaring examples of that. So major credit should be given to her for inspiring me. Another collaborator on this particular chapter is Meribor (seems-like-a-good-idea on tumblr). I do take other collaborators, so message me if you want in on this.
> 
> So without further ado, here's chapter 1 of the project I've been working on in some form or other for 9 years. Here's "Am I...Ginger?"

** **

**(Chapter Art by [Meribor](https://seems-like-a-good-idea.tumblr.com))**

**Ealing: 2013**

Sarah Jane Smith was just on the precipice of sleep when she heard knocking at her door. Softly, timidly...So softly and timidly, in fact, that for a moment Sarah Jane was convinced she'd dreamed it. But then it came again, more insistently and with more urgency.

She pulled herself from her bed and slipped on her robe as she headed down the stairs towards the front door. Who could it be this late? It was nearly 1 in the morning. And positively pouring down rain - well, this was Britain, after all, that part was hardly unusual. But still...hardly optimal conditions for an unexpected house call. In Sarah Jane's experience, this could hardly bode well.

She peered out the window for a short second before she opened the door.

"Alex?"

"I'm so so sorry, I didn't know where else to go."

It was a small slip of a girl, no older than 15, her shoulder length brown hair dripping with rainwater as her drab hand-me-down clothes clung to her slight frame.

"Why don't you come in out of the rain, Alex," she said, ushering her inside. "You must be freezing." Sarah Jane peered at her. "Can I ask what you're doing here at this hour, dear?"

"I...I was going to ring ahead of time to say I was coming but...I needed my phone for directions and timetables and I forgot to charge it so it died-"

Sarah Jane knew Alex well enough to tell that she was going into a spiral and decided to cut it off before it could really begin. "You couldn't ask someone on the bus for a charging cable?"

"I...I didn't think of that," Alex admitted, feeling silly. "I wasn't in the best state of mind, honestly, and...Well, it was a train, actually."

"A train? Exactly how far have you come? Do your parents know you're here?"

"Um... Birmingham..."

"Birmingham! Goodness, that's miles away!"

"And, uh, no. No they don't."

"What on earth are you doing dashing across the country, all alone, without letting anyone know? Especially in the dead of night! Do you know how incredibly dangerous that is?"

Alex just looked at her. "Yeah."

Sarah Jane softened at the look on her face. She'd always had the deepest compassion for this child, she couldn't help it.

"Why don't you come sit down?" Sarah Jane said, gently. "I'll make you some tea. When's the last time you had something to eat?"

...

Sky Smith awoke to find her mum going through her dresser.

"Mum?" she asked, blearily. "What time is it? What are you doing?"

"Go back to sleep," Sarah Jane replied. "I've just got to get some dry clothes for our guest to wear, and she's around the same size as you are..."

"Guest?" Sky asked, sitting up. "Who's here?"

...

Alex could hear footsteps approaching, and looked down at her own feet. She noticed the puddle of rainwater she was dripping onto the floor and felt even more guilty.

"I'm... really sorry to be bothering you like this, Miss Smith. I'll be leaving, soon, if it's a problem, I mean, so, please don't be worried about-"

But when a voice spoke, it wasn't the one she'd been expecting. "Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere."

She froze, then looked up slowly to see her best friend, Sky, standing before her.

Sky smiled. "It's good to see you, Alex. We missed you." She rushed forward and hugged her friend, who was startled by the affection and began to cry.

"I'm sorry, did I-" Sky began, nervously.

"No, I'm just-" Alex stammered. "I'm all wet and I'm gonna get you all wet and I'm dripping on the floor and I'm just gonna go-"

"Not when I've gone to all the trouble to pick out some clothes for you to wear, you're not," Sky said, stubbornly. She held out the dry clothes. "Why don't you go get changed?”

Alex was grateful, but still felt guilty. She knew, however, that it was no good arguing and went to change.

When Alex was safely out of earshot, Sarah Jane turned to her daughter. "I'm going to go upstairs," she said. "Fill in Mr Smith, let K-9 know not to come down, lock the door...You know, the usual precautions. I'll be back."

...

Alex, now dry apart from her hair, came reluctantly back into the living room to find Sky and Sarah Jane waiting for her.

"Now, dear," Sarah Jane said. "Are you going to tell us what's happened?"

Alex squeezed her eyes shut - an attempt to stem the sudden flow of tears.

"Maybe it would be more useful..." Sarah Jane continued. "If I asked about your new family? Last time we saw you, you were getting adopted. Moved out west. How's that worked out?"

"It hasn't," she said, simply.

"Families fight sometimes. Maybe if we just call them up-"

"No you don't..." Alex realized she was raising her voice and checked herself. "You don't understand. They told me it's not worked out. 'Sorry, Alex, we've given this a lot of thought and we've changed our minds. It's just not working out.' Gonna send me back to the state, now, so who knows where I'll end up this time? And I...I panicked, I...I don't want to start over again, not after everything and...I didn't know where else to go."

Sarah Jane's heart broke for this girl, and not for the first time. But she was also angry. "They said this to you?"

"It was a longer talk, but yeah."

"What kind of people do that?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. “They knew up front that maybe there would be some kind of adjustment, considering what you’ve been through...but they’ve hardly given you a chance...they can’t just chuck you out…”

_ And the statistics for adoption at your age! _ Sarah Jane thought to herself. _ They gave you a miracle in the first place and then just took it away. _

"No this was..." Alex said. "This was my fault."

Sarah Jane rushed to her and took her hands. "No, no...Don't you ever think that, dear, of course it's not your fault. I'm glad you felt safe enough to come to me. Well you'll be staying with me, just until things are sorted-"

"Oh no no, I couldn't-"

"You can and you will," Sarah Jane said. "I'll feed you, then you're going on to bed. The guest room is all fixed up, you can stay in there. We'll talk more in the morning."

...

Sarah Jane made the three of them breakfast the next morning.

"Have you thought of what you'd like to do now?" Sarah Jane asked her, when they'd nearly finished eating. "No rush, dear...I just wanted to know if you'd thought about it."

Alex was silent for a moment. She had thought about it, yes, but wasn't coming up with easy conclusions.

"Have you..." Sarah Jane prompted. "Have you spoken with your uncle? I remember you used to talk about having an uncle."

"He was out of the country, last I heard," Alex replied, sullenly. "I should probably call him, though. Let him know what's going on."

"I think that's a good idea, dear," Sarah Jane replied. "I'm not rushing you to any kind of decision, though. You're 15. Old enough to know what you want to do."

…

Sarah Jane headed out for a bit, needing to do a grocery run. Alex went upstairs to take a shower while Sky tried to find a movie for them to watch when she got through.

After changing into some fresh clothes, Alex pulled out her newly charged phone and called her Uncle. She got the answering machine. She wasn't exactly sure what she would say. What would he think about her failed adoption? She knew it was irrational, but she was a bit worried that he’d be disappointed that she couldn’t make this one work out. After all, this was her last chance. They’d both known this going in.

"Heya, Uncle Jack...It's me, Alex. Been a while. Listen, just wanted to check in. Tell ya I'm fine, doing fine, all that...The whole adoption thing didn't work out. Shocker, I know," she added, deflated. "But anyway...I'm up staying with some friends right now so no need to come out of your way if you've got things goin' on. It's fine, really,” she reassured him, though not believing it fully herself. "Anyway, yeah."

She felt awkward, so she hung up the phone.

…

Sarah Jane Smith finished getting groceries and was walking past an alley on her way home when she did a double-take.

There it was, plain as day…

The TARDIS.

It had been years since she'd last seen the Doctor, since he'd crashed her wedding. And yet...here his ship was. Her heart skipped a beat. But why now? What could possibly be happening to draw him to Ealing, so close to her home? And why wouldn’t he alert her to his presence?

…

The Doctor returned to his TARDIS, needing to do a bit of brainstorming. He was too preoccupied to notice that he was not alone, until…

"Hello, Doctor."

He turned to the sweet, familiar voice. He was stunned, but that didn't stop him from smiling. "Sarah Jane Smith," he started slowly. "What on Earth-"

"Yes, what on Earth?" she smiled in return, warmly. "What could there be on Earth - specifically in my part of Ealing - that could bring you here today?"

They both spoke at once.

"Well, when I saw you the other day-" the Doctor began.

"It's been a long time-" Sarah Jane began.

They both stopped.

"Though...evidently not for you," Sarah Jane said, smiling sadly. "Skipped past all the pesky day-to-day stuff, have you? Understandable."

"How long has it been?" he asked, slowly. "For you?"

Last time she'd seen him, he'd regenerated. She could see that this was earlier on the timeline for him. Rather than risk complicating things by admitting to the timeline, she answered. "Four years. Since my wedding, if that's what you're asking." 

And there it was, that old familiar guilt. He knew she understood how things ended, how they had to end. He also knew that, no matter how much time had passed for her or her smile of acceptance, his reappearances opened old wounds. "Yeah, yeah it was. I suppose it has been a long time."

"I've waited longer."

"Right," he said, breezing on past that. "Well I'm actually sort of in the middle of something-"

"Anything I can help with?"

He was sorely tempted, but thought better of it.

"No, best I do this on my own," he said. "Better not to get anyone involved. Especially with you having a kid now and all."

"Kids," Sarah Jane said, smiling fondly. "I have a daughter now, too, who I should really get back to..."

"Right, yes, you should," the Doctor said, latching on to the opportunity. He began pressing buttons and pulling levers. "I'll just drop you off at home, shall I?"

"What?" Sarah Jane asked, alarmed. "No, no, we can't-"

But it was too late.

…

"What was that sound?" Alex asked.

"What sound?" Sky asked, innocently. She'd never heard the TARDIS before in person, but she knew the noise was from the attic and she was forbidden to let Alex know what was happening up there.

"That sound, coming from the attic," Alex said. "What's that you've got up there? Why's it always locked when I come over?"

"Oh it's nothing," Sky said, but Alex could tell she was lying. "I'm just gonna...pop upstairs for a moment. Be right back?"

If this were an ordinary girl, perhaps she would’ve considered leaving well enough alone. She’d been told never to go up there, so she should just follow that simple rule and not even think about it. But Alex was no ordinary girl. She was cursed with being both incredibly curious and unbelievably stubborn.

So she waited just a moment, then followed Sky to the attic.

…

The TARDIS materialized in the attic, and Sarah Jane panicked.

"Doctor, Sky has a friend over right now! She doesn't know about any of this-"

"Well then I'll just dematerialize as soon as you're gone and she won't have to know-" he replied.

"Why are you so anxious to rush me out?" Sarah Jane asked, hands on her hips.

"Because I'm in the middle of something, and you have kids now so-"

A little metal dog zoomed into the TARDIS. "TARDIS detected!" said a tinny voice.

"K-9!" the Doctor exclaimed, thrilled despite himself.

"Does the Doctor require assistance?" the voice of Mr Smith spoke from outside the TARDIS.

"Yes," the Doctor said, automatically. "No. I don't know!"

"I'm sorry, the TARDIS was muffling your response-"

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS to address the supercomputer. "I was just saying that I'm on my way out-"

"Do you require assistance?" K-9 asked.

"K-9 is anxious because we've been cooped up in this attic ever since Miss Alex arrived early this morning," Mr Smith says.

"You're always cooped up in this attic," Sky reminded him, closing the attic door behind her. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the TARDIS. "It's just the way Sarah Jane described it!" Her eyes landed on the tall, young man in the brown coat with brown, disheveled hair. She grinned, widely. "And you must be-"

"Going," the Doctor said, avoiding all eye contact. "I really must be going. I'm really very busy, hate to dash-"

But Sarah Jane was standing in the TARDIS doors. "Are you going to tell us what you're in the middle of? Maybe we can help?"

Given no choice, he returned her gaze. Her tone of voice may have been cheery, but those eyes were solemn. They waited for an answer he wasn't prepared to give. "You're better off not helping," he said, standing his ground.

Sarah Jane looked at him steadily. "I'm not letting you leave this room until you tell me. Oh. By the way, this is my daughter, Sky. Long story."

The Doctor slowly turned to the girl, absentmindedly holding out a hand to shake. "Sky Smith," he noted to himself.

Sarah Jane smiled. Despite the tangent in conversation, it felt only right to explain to him, and in doing so, she lost her resolve. “She fell from it. It's a-"

"Long story." The Doctor had discreetly set off the sonic screwdriver in his pocket, at a frequency he knew humans could not hear, and could already tell it was picking something up. "Yes, you said. One day I'll have to pop by to hear it." He probably wouldn't. He had no right to expect an explanation.

"Scanning frequency," said K-9, just at the same time as Mr Smith made a short, somehow irritated-sounding buzz. Simultaneously, Sky looked up innocently at the Doctor and asked "what's that?" pointing toward his concealed screwdriver.

"Nothing," he told her, switching off the sonic and making more mental notes. "Just how I say hello sometimes."

"I could feel you oscillating my atomic makeup just then. Only a fraction, though." She processed this. "Were you trying to look at my chemical composition, mister Doctor?" She wavered, evidently trying not to sound accusatory. “Because that's okay, you could have just asked."

"Oh she's definitely your kid," the Doctor murmured, not able to hide the twinkle in his eye. Then he shook his head. "I really do need to get going though, this really was supposed to be just a drop-off-"

It was at this moment that Alex reached the attic room. She’d been taught quite a lot about stealth and sneaking around in her short life, but she was so taken off guard that she momentarily forgot it all. “Woah,” she breathed, looking around as she came further into the room, trying to take in all the things that inarguably did not belong in an attic. “What's all this? I knew you were hiding something up here, but I didn't expect...this."

"Alex, dear, you should go back downstairs," Sarah Jane said, hurrying to come up with an excuse. "This is just, uh-"

"A really well-thought out excuse, I'm sure," Alex said, amused. "Come on, this isn't the first time I've seen alien tech, I'm not a rookie." She nodded to Mr Smith. "Super computer?"

"Don't answer that," Sarah Jane warned him, making things worse.

"So, it can answer that?" Alex asked. "Cool! I'm Alex, what should I call you?"

"I am Mr Smith," Mr Smith answered. "You must be Miss Alex."

"So you've heard of me," Alex said, pleased.

"Now that Miss Alex has seen us," said a small metal dog that zoomed out of the big blue box in the center of the room. "Are we permitted to go downstairs?"

"Oh look, a little tin dog!" Alex said, delighted. "I'm more of a cat person, myself, but it's adorable! And it talks!" She reached down to scratch its ears. "What's your name, little tin dog?"

"K-9, mistress."

"Adorable," said Alex, satisfied. She straightened up, now regarding the box. "So...is that, like...your portal or ship or something, Miss Smith?" Gone was the girl who insisted on not being an imposition.

Sarah Jane was stunned by a great many things in this conversation, as were the rest of them. "Er…"

"Which would make you guys aliens, right?" Alex continued, catching on. "Yes, that explains all the weird stuff! I knew it! I mean I didn't know it, but I knew there was something I didn't know!"

"We're not...aliens," Sarah Jane replied, slowly. "I mean...I'm not, at least."

Alex became slowly aware of the strange man in the room. "Who the hell are you?" she asked, crossing her arms. She had this habit of always being a bit defensive with strangers, especially men.

"One of the, uh… aliens," he said. "Another one of yours, Sarah Jane?"

"Yeah," Sarah Jane said, without thinking. "I mean, she's Sky's friend. She's staying with us."

"Another long story?" the Doctor asked, raising his eyebrows.

"One that's none of your business," Alex replied.

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked, not at all put off by the fierce way she stared him down.

"Alex Mitchell," she said. "Representing Earth on behalf of the Torchwood Institute. State your business."

_ Torchwood _. So imposing was the word that it changed the air of the room. It knocked out the tangle of questions, suspicions, the undertones of fear and resentment. Its gravity pulled equally on everyone. 

They all gawked at Alex, none so much as Sarah Jane. She was the first to find her voice. "Wait, what do you mean, Torchwood?" she asked, certain no answer could be benign. "What do you know about Torchwood?"

"I'm afraid that's classified, Miss Smith," Alex said, trying to seem more impressive than she felt. She hadn't yet taken her eyes off of the Doctor. "Don't make me repeat the question. State your business, traveler."

The Doctor eyed the girl steadily. "There is no way you're with Torchwood," he said, trying to call her bluff. If she had been, she wouldn't have to ask who he was. "You're a kid. What are they doing, recruiting child soldiers now?"

Alex hated being treated like a child, so this statement just annoyed her further. "I'm not a child. And you'd be wise not to underestimate me. Now, if you don't answer my questions, I'm going to have to assume you're a hostile combatant. You will be treated as such, in accordance with the Shadow Proclamation-"

"The Shadow Proclamation?" his brow furrowed. Suddenly he started to wonder whether this wasn't a bluff after all. Torchwood were a bunch of loud-mouths, stumbling around pretending to be secret while stamping their presence over everything they touch. He could see an Earth girl stumbling upon that lingo. But the Shadow Proclamation...That was much more unlikely. And suddenly he was beginning to formulate new theories, but he'd need to go along with it in the meantime. He put his hands on his hips. "What would you like to know?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

"How long have you got?"

"I'm asking the questions. State your business."

"Hunting down known members of the Trickster's Brigade."

Alex thought it best for the moment to pretend she knew what he was talking about. "And you suspect one of them might be here? In Ealing? What for?"

"They seem to flock around this area." He gestured toward the window. "I've encountered them elsewhere, but the Trickster himself likes to fixate on Sarah Jane," looking briefly to the woman, then back to the girl, "and, well, me. He's technically locked outside of our dimension for the moment, but I thought it best to get a jump on whatever plan he's brewing now. Maybe I can find a weakness and defeat him once and for all, so I don't have to worry about him targeting my friends anymore. That's why I'm looking for known associates."

"And you found one." It was a flat statement.

"Have I?" he asked, teeth clenched, looking at her steadily as if waiting for confirmation of his theory.

"You tell me. From the way you were speaking it seemed as if you might've."

"I've got my suspicions," he replied. "But yes. I tracked one to a children's dental office nearby. Can't see what business it has there. Was staking it out, trying to find a convincing way to get in."

"Well that's good luck you ran into me, then, isn't it? I'm older than I look, but I can go in with you. Pose as a kid. Get you access."

"Wait, wait, no. Absolutely not," Sarah Jane said, moving to stand between her and the Doctor with her hands on her hips. "This is getting insane. Alex Mitchell, you're not with Torchwood, you can't be! We've known you for two years! You went to school with my daughter! We would absolutely know if you were Torchwood. Which you can't be, seeing as you're 15 years old."

"Things are not always as they appear," the Doctor said. "But I don't think this is a job for Torchwood-"

"This is my jurisdiction," Alex said, stubbornly trying a last ditch plan. "You'll play by my rules."

"Oh good luck with that," Sarah Jane said, exasperated. "Doctor, listen to me...She's a child. And not like one of mine...I've been trying to protect her from...all of this."

Something about that stung Alex. "Look, you can take my help or leave it, but now I know there's a problem I'll just go sort it out on my own, you just try to stop me. This is my planet. I'll be damned if I just let some moonwalker cut me out of my own investigation."

He blinked. "Moonwalker?" He couldn't help but be charmed by her spunk, though now certain of her naivety. 

"You heard me."

There was another tense moment of silence while the two looked at each other. He, with his hands on his hips, teeth clenched and brow furrowed, the 900-year-old alien, always cautiously conceding to his curiosity and his need to not be alone, and she the juvenile, almost equally his match in all respects, just not quite formed enough to understand her place in the world or if she could even have one. "Alright, if you think you can handle it…Torchwood, you're with me." He turned quickly to go back to the TARDIS.

"It's Alex," she reminded him. "Torchwood's just the name of the job."

"Very human name," he said as he turned in the doorway to look at her. "Always felt a person grows into a name, has to really earn it before it's theirs. Yours is Greek. Means 'defender' or 'conqueror'. Alex could be defender of the Earth...or she could be another conquering warrior sent out by Torchwood. So which are you?"

Alex wasn't sure how to respond. "We'll just see, won't we?"

"Guess we will, Torchwood." With a sly smile he turned slightly and motioned for her to come inside. "Allons-y!"

Alex stared him down and walked inside cautiously, not taking her eyes off him as she walked past him inside. She didn't even look at the interior of the TARDIS - before long she had her back to it and was just looking at him expectantly.

"Doctor, you can't possibly be serious-" Sarah Jane tried reasoning with him.

"Oh Sarah Jane, you know I try to be serious as infrequently as possible!" he said, resuming his usual tumbling flair of speech. "But in this case, I have to admit curiosity has rather gotten the best of me." And without another word, he shut the TARDIS doors and latched them behind him so she couldn't try to argue with him anymore.

Alex didn't like that and found herself nervous - being locked inside a tiny box with a strange alien. It went against every safety protocol she’d been raised with! "What now?" she asked, trying to seem braver than she was.

"Now?" the Doctor asked, having noticed that she hadn't taken her eyes off him yet. "Aren't you going to have a look around? Don't go far, can't have you running off-"

"Far?" she scoffed. "It's a tiny box, what're you-"

She finally look around, and when she did she couldn't help but stare.

"Not expecting that, were you, Torchwood?" the Doctor asked, smugly.

She recovered quickly. "Day one of Torchwood...they teach you to expect the unexpected."

"This is my TARDIS," he said. "Surprised you never heard of it, being Torchwood and all. Means Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. And yeah, it's-"

"Extraordinary," she breathed, gazing around as if trying to memorize the interior. She'd struggled for a moment thinking of a word that could adequately capture the enormity of what she was feeling and she was still trying to sound grown up and impressive, but as soon as the word came out of her mouth she felt it was pretentious and a little bit silly.

The Doctor caught this and decided on teasing her immediately. "Extraordinary? I suppose it is, yeah, extraordinary. Bit of a large word, though, doesn't quite fit correctly in the mouth-"

"You talk entirely too much," Alex replied, crossing her arms. "So yeah, it's bigger on the inside, Mary Poppins. Let's get a move on."

"Never seen anything like it, have you, Torchwood?"

"I told you, it's Alex."

"We'll see." He turned on his heel to the controls.

"What's the game plan?" she asked, watching as he began to press buttons to get them off the ground. "We in for a little undercover?"

"It was your plan, Torchwood, you tell me."

"Well I suppose I should pretend to be a kid, then. I can get away with that. Should open doors for us. Then you're, I dunno, like a weird older brother or something."

"Older brother?" he asked, amused. "I don't think I could pull that off. I'm older than I look as well. Maybe I should be your dad."

"What?" she asked, brow furrowing. "I dunno-"

"Aw come on, what's the harm?"

…

The TARDIS materialized in the same alley Sarah Jane had found it in, and the two of them emerged. They walked past a church on their way to the dental office.

Alex noticed the Doctor looking warily at an angel statue nearby. "What?"

"Hm? Oh nothing. I'm just always a bit nervous around things like that. Just in case it moves. You ever seen that angel before?"

"It's been there as long as I can remember," she said.

"Good, good…" he said. "That should mean it's not a threat."

"Angel statues are threats?"

"Occasionally. There's a species of alien that pretends to be angel statues. You have to keep your eyes on them without blinking because when you blink they move."

"That's...ridiculous," she rolled her eyes. "You're trying to freak me out and it's not working."

…

"Do you have an appointment?" the nurse at the counter asked.

"We called ahead," the Doctor said, flashing some credentials. "I'm John Smith and this is my daughter Alex."

Alex still didn't like the idea of him posing as her dad but followed his lead. "Thinking about getting new teeth. Got a wicked toothache."

They sat in the waiting room a few moments and the Doctor noticed how Alex was looking around the place.

"Casing the joint?" he teased.

"It's like day one of training," she replied. "Always make sure you're completely aware of your surroundings. Always have an escape plan handy."

"Alex Smith?" a nurse with a clipboard entered the room. "We're ready for you."

Alex glared at the Doctor, unable to believe she'd actually agreed to pretend to be his daughter.

…

They languidly followed the nurse, trying to get the full scope of the area. It looked fairly benign and normal - like every other clinic Alex had ever been in.

"I can't explain it…" she said. "But I get a bad feelin' from this place."

"So what's that accent then?" he asked her.

"This is no time to go pokin' fun-"

"I'm not, honest."

"No you're not honest," she rolled her eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"You're hiding something. Can always tell."

The nurse presented the room. They both smiled at her and she smiled back; a sort of non-verbal agreement that they would happily wait there until someone came. They may as well as had their fingers crossed behind their backs. 

Very soon, the coast was clear and they began poking around the clinic.

"Takes one to know one, I suppose," he shot back, resuming his light-hearted interrogation. "So what is the accent?"

She sighed. "I'm from all over. Spent time out in Birmingham, in Cardiff...mostly I'm from London, alright?"

"That could explain it. Or maybe you're just working too hard at having a British accent that you're accidentally blending accents. Don't worry - you have a very _ extraordinary _accent."

"What are you implying?" she crossed her arms, ignoring the teasing. "You saying I'm an alien? I'm not. I'm just from the north."

"Lots of planets have a north-" he began saying, before they heard a noise.

…

"I don't understand why they would keep all of these," the Doctor said, peering at the jars full of human teeth and saliva that were on the secret shelf.

"It's creepy," Alex shivered. "Bit serial killer."

"Well one thing's for sure," the Doctor replied. "It'll be like finding a needle in a haystack trying to find a member of the Trickster's Brigade here. This whole place is starting to look like it's positively crawling with aliens."

At that moment, Alex's phone started buzzing. She fished it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID.

"Sorry, it's my commanding officer checking in," she said, walking from the room. "I'll only be a moment."

She slipped into a room with a giant, panoramic x-ray machine, answering the phone just as soon as she was sure she was of earshot. "Uncle Jack, what's up?"

"Alex, what happened?” There was tension in the American voice on the phone. Jack Harkness was worried. “Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I told you in the message I'm fine," she whispered. "Listen, I don't really have time to talk right now-"

"Where are you? Do you need me to come get you?"

A part of her always knew that he cared. As happy as she was that he showed it, she resented the implication that she needed rescuing especially given the timing. "Like you can just hop over. Where are you this time? Saturn? Don't worry about it. I know you've got important things you're doing. I'm just sort of busy-"

"Doing what?"

She kept a hushed voice. "If you must know, I...stumbled upon some alien activity in Ealing. Following around some bloke called the Doctor-"

"The Doctor?" Now Jack really was worried. "What are you doing hanging around the Doctor? Alex, under no circumstances should you make contact with the Doctor."

"You know him, then?"

"We go...way back," her uncle said in that cryptic way he always did. "Listen-"

"No it's too late, I've already partnered up with him. Told him that I'm representing Torchwood on this one."

"Alex you can't just…" He sighed, frustrated. "Listen to me, I need you to stand down. Don't try to be brave. You're 15 years old, you shouldn't be bothering with any of this. I'll come back to England right away and deal with the Doctor myself."

"But-"

He tried not to sound condescending. "Alex, you're being very brave and I'm proud of you that you want to help...but please, just stand down. Can you do that for me?"

"Alright," she sulked.

"Good," he said, sounding relieved. "I'm in America right now, but I'll get a plane ticket right now, okay? Just...don't do anything rash. Where are you staying right now?"

"13 Bannerman Road, in Ealing."

"Bannerman Road…" he wondered for a moment why that sounded so familiar. "Wait, not Sarah Jane Smith's house, is it?"

Alex was floored. Jack knew the Doctor and Sarah Jane? And where Sarah Jane lived? The revelation hit her with the same impact that her knowledge of Torchwood had hit the others in the attic. Her world seemed to shrink along with her hubris. "How do you know Miss Smith?"

"This is too much coincidence," Jack said, worried again. "I'm getting the plane ticket now. You are standing down, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do that," she said. She saw the Doctor coming. She started to say “bye now” the way she normally would’ve, but thought she’d better sound professional. “Copy that.” She hung up the phone.

"Well?" the Doctor asked. "You have your orders?"

"Yeah, I'm supposed to tag along with you," Alex casually lied. "Apparently you're famous or somethin'."

"What? They don't teach about me to all the Torchwood recruits? I'm hurt. You know, I am the reason you've got a job in the first place…"

Just then, they were attacked.

…

"It all makes sense now!" the Doctor shouted, as they were running away. "Denoths! Particularly nasty buggers! Knock you out and steal your bones and fluids for their food!"

"And they're feeding on kids?" Alex asked, horrified.

"That was my first thought too, but-"

"Nobody has actually been reported missing?" she finished the thought for him.

"You know, you really are _ extraordinarily _clever."

"You say that with the tone of surprise?" She raised her eyebrows in a challenging sort of way. 

The Doctor could see shadows from the corner they’d been about to round and knew they were close to being captured. He grabbed Alex by the arm and pulled her into a room, closing the door behind them.

“Get off me!” Alex snapped, snatching her arm away. “And good job, mate! Really cracking good one this time! Got us trapped in a windowless room! No chance they’ll find us any moment now, oh no! Because we’re somehow going to escape out a windowless room!”

“Give me a minute,” the Doctor said, jumping to examine some machinery he’d found. 

Alex looked round at his tone, spotting the machine as well. She frowned and came for a closer look. It was large - rather like those old computers she’d seen in textbooks that took up the whole wall. There were all kinds of blinking lights and buttons and hanging wires, all leading down to what could’ve passed for a Dance Dance Revolution pad if it had possessed any of the tell-tale markings of that game.

“Hang on, what’s this?” Alex asked, examining it now as well.

“Try not to touch anything,” the Doctor merely replied, shining his screwdriver on something.

“Why not?”

“Don’t want you accidentally blowing something up.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Well I don’t want _ you _ blowing stuff up, mate. And I don’t see you being more qualified than me on this! Exactly what _ are _your qualifications?”

“I’ve just got a lot of experience in these kinds of things-”

“Oh experience, you’ve got _ experience? _” She was starting to be a little stressed, and felt a bit out of her depth but was determined not to show it. “So what is this?”

“I’ve got a theory-”

“So you don’t know? Right, well, I can find out for you, easy. Can start pushing buttons.”

He put on his glasses and looked up at her. “Don’t do that.”

“We don’t have a lot of time to figure this out, and I wanna know.”

“No seriously, don’t.”

She looked around and found the biggest button. She smirked and stepped up onto the platform to reach it. “So I shouldn’t press this one, then?” She looked at him, raising her eyebrows in a challenge as she held her hand over it. “This great big threatening button that must not be pressed under any circumstances, am I right?”

He stood up then, suddenly alarmed. “Stop that, we don’t know what that does!” He stepped up on the platform next to her.

“Yeah, but see, I’ve got this sort of problem,” she replied, in an off-hand sort of way. “Gets me into a lot of trouble, it does. Because the thing you’ve got to know about me is that I always know exactly what’s good for me then do the exact opposite. Life’s more interesting that way, you know? Nobody ever got anywhere in life by not taking the opportunity for adventure, so that’s what I’m doing! Giving in to simple curiosity! Otherwise nothing will happen! And I _ really _ want to see what happens. So basically, whenever I see a great big threatening button which should never, ever, _ ever _ be pressed...Then I just want to do this!”

She pressed the button and they were both transported away just as the door opened.

The Doctor and Alex found themselves on what appeared to be a dark room filled with cold metal objects. The Doctor took a moment to ensure that he was still intact.

“A transporter!” he shouted. “I mean, I knew it was a transporter.”

“Did you?” Alex asked, incredulously.

“It was one of my guesses,” he admitted. He suddenly noticed more lights blinking on the transporter and shined the sonic on it, frying it. “Don’t want anybody following us, not 'til we’ve got a plan.” Then he turned to Alex. “That was _ incredibly _dangerous, what were you thinking?”

She crossed her arms. “I was _ thinking _we were in a windowless room with no escape, and I was being - what’s the word - proactive!” She made to step off of the platform.

The Doctor grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to a stop and making her face him. "Alright, this game's gone far enough, don't you think?"

She looked up at him defiantly. "I don't know what you mean." But she could feel herself beginning to crack under the pressure.

"Oh come on now, think it's pretty obvious by now. Suspected it all along."

"What are you implying?"

"You say you're older than you look?"

"Feels that way sometimes, yeah."

"Well no human being could age like that. And Torchwood isn't in the business of employing aliens - they've got a strictly no aliens allowed policy. So it's time you admitted what you really are."

She realized she'd been caught. "Alright," she said. "Alright you caught me. I'm not with bloody Torchwood. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

The Doctor didn't take his eyes off her as he began reaching for his sonic screwdriver. "So you admit it. You're-"

"If you call me a bloody kid one more time, I'll knock your teeth in," she snapped. "I'm so...I'm so sick of people treating me like I can't handle things,” she hissed as she wriggled free of his grasp. "Like alright, fine! Fine you caught me! You called my bluff, you figured it out! So I lied! I'm just a 15 year old foster brat! So I'm not with Torchwood! I might as well be!” She conceded that her argument was sounding like one of a teenager. "I grew up with Torchwood! My parents were Torchwood, and I was looked after by Torchwood 3 for a good bit of my childhood! I know the procedures, I know what to say and what to do!” She paused, expecting that everything she said, all she'd known, was wrong. Instead of a counter argument, the Doctor stared silently. "I'm out here just…"she sighed, deflated. "Just saying and doing exactly what I've seen Uncle Jack do in these situations but...I'm mucking it up, aren't I? Which is probably why they never let me help with anything, isn't it? I just get in the way."

"Wait, what?" the Doctor said, not having expected this. "Uncle Jack?"

"Not by blood, it's just what I've always called him. Look, I'm sorry I lied...but I just wanted to get to go on the mission for once. This is what I was trained for and I've...never been allowed to do it."

The Doctor suddenly understood, and his hearts were breaking. "You said...you said your parents were Torchwood. Were. As in they ...retired?" This was wishful thinking. He'd heard her say something about being fostered.

"They disappeared when I was a kid," Alex explained, furiously wiping away tears. "Nobody knows what happened to them. Jack says they're still out there somewhere, and he's looking for them but...it's been 12 years. So I'm on my own."

"This is why you didn't want me to pretend to be your dad," he sympathized. 

She shrugged, not looking at him. This struck him as strange, since she'd always stared him full in the face up until now. "And now we're going to get stuck in here," she said, feebly. "We're going to get stuck because I didn't listen to Jack and just leave."

"No, listen to me, Alex," the Doctor said, grabbing her gently by the shoulders and peering into her face. "We are not going to get stuck in here. We're going to figure this out. You've done a great job - you've been very brave and very clever. Do you think you can keep that up for me?" She shrugged noncommittally. "Good," he said. "Now...do you think you can trust me?"

She knew, somehow, that she could. But that didn't mean she was going to say that aloud. Still without looking at him, she nodded.

"Good, good...So first thing’s first. We figure out where we are.”

She looked around, glad for something to focus on. “It’s so dark in here...can we turn on a light?”

“Think I found something.” The Doctor moved toward some large metal blinds and moved them up to expose a large window. 

Alex gasped and came to stand next to him. “Is that...Earth? Are we...in space?”

“Yeah, looks like,” the Doctor said, softening towards her. She looked so small in the Earth-light. “We can get you back down there. I can try rerouting the power, setting new coordinates...Can beam you down, essentially.”

She whipped around to face him. “And where would you go?”

“I’ve still got a job to do.”

“Well no way.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I’m not leaving you here on your own. I may not be Torchwood, but as the closest thing to Torchwood that you’ve got I still think you’re my responsibility.” She paused, then sighed. "Fine, okay, it’s not even really about that. I just never get any of the adventures for myself. I don’t like the idea of not seeing this through.” She got back to glaring at him. “No, I'm staying 'til we've both got this figured out, you got that?"

He was impressed that such a small thing could be so very fierce. "Alright, fair enough. So here's the plan..."

…

Of course the plan went all wrong. Alex got captured and was being put under laughing gas. The Doctor got there just in time to see her stop struggling and succumb to it.

"Hey!" the Doctor said, angered by this. "What do you think you're doing?"

"We're harvesting," one alien, dressed as a technician, said.

"Not from her, you're not!" the Doctor shouted.

"What makes you think you can stop us?"

He scoffed. "Stop you? I can do that in my sleep and with my hands tied behind my back. You're a pack of low-level Denoths who barely qualify as members of the Trickster's Brigade, so it's almost too easy. I'm the Doctor, and if you think I'm going to stand there and let you harm my fake daughter, well then you don't know who you're dealing with."

"The Trickster's Brigade?" the lead alien asked. "Who said we were members of the Trickster's Brigade? We're a rogue faction, we mind our own business! And we're not harming her! That would be barbaric. We're just harvesting a few of her teeth and if there are none to spare we'll gladly take the saliva. This is a symbiotic relationship we have with the people of this planet."

Alex stirred faintly, having been struggling to follow this. "Wait, that's why...that's why nobody's gone missing,” she mumbled weakly.

"You're not eating the bones and draining fluids, you're...just taking teeth and spit," he continued her thought.

“That's…" She made a face. "Really gross, guys."

"But...preferable to killing people," the Doctor reminded her.

"Yeah, that's true," she said, faintly.

“Can I just ask, though,” he said to the aliens. “What’s with the great big dead ship floating out in orbit? That’s what I can’t quite figure out about all this.”

"We’re stuck,” the lead alien said. “Blew out some fuses and can’t quite get it to work.”

“I could try to fix it for you,” the Doctor said. “Send you on your way?”

“Turns out we’re actually happy here. Lots of teeth down here. So if you’d just permit us to finish our work-”

The Doctor glared at him. "If you do that, you won't just have _ me _ to answer to. The full wrath of the Torchwood Institute will rain down on you.”

“Yeah that’s right!” Alex slurred, happily. “I’m _ Torchwood _today and we’re gonna kick your-”

“You can continue to have discarded teeth _ within reason _, but you leave Alex out of it.”

The lead alien seemed frightened of the name "Torchwood" and backed off. The Doctor came forward to help Alex off the cot she was on. “We'll leave you now in peace, but I'm going to have some friends keep an eye on you...just in case. Come on," he added gently, putting an arm around Alex’s shoulders to try to help her to her feet. "Time to go, Alex." She stumbled, a bit too weak to move. "Woah woah woah…" He caught her in his arms. "Gotcha, kiddo." He decided it might be quicker just to carry her.

…

He left the clinic and was walking back towards the TARDIS when he spotted an Ood directly in his path.

"You have come far, Doctor, to end up almost right where you started."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the Doctor asked.

"Not exactly where you started…" it mused. "The circle has changed."

"Oh we're not back on circles again, are we?"

"A different circle. One which threatens to keep you trapped."

"More cryptic riddles."

"You aren't in the mood for them. Riddles no longer amuse you. Not after the Trickster."

"Do you have information for me?"

"You have done well. You were led to this place, not by chance. You did not find what you were looking for, but you found what you needed. As we all do, in the end…"

"What does this mean?"

"Your final song is beginning. The first note hovers just out of reach, waiting to be sung."

"This again-"

"The Trickster's greatest weapon is just beyond the horizon. To find it, you must seek a place of little renown filled with people who are seldom themselves. In Camden Town, you'll all fall down…and then you'll take your bow. You can make a different choice this time. You can choose to take it gracefully."

"My bow?" The Doctor felt a chill pass over him.

"You'll find what you seek two years past today and three days past the Ides in the latter month of the Roman Emperor. The price of admission is low, but your ticket has a much higher cost. The seats are empty now, it's your choice whether you will fill them." And then the Ood was gone.

"Well that was...complete nonsense," he complained, frustrated. "I'm getting really fed up with these riddles. Is anyone going to ever just tell me things without all the games?" Of course he knew the Ood didn't play games. He couldn't fully dismiss what was said, but he sure could avoid it for a while.

...

He had barely gotten her through the TARDIS doorway before Sarah Jane popped up in front of him again, like a very perturbed, auburn-haired jack-in-the-box.

"And where on Earth have you been?" she demanded. "I _ hope _ you have been on Earth for your sake! I've been trying to get in contact with this supposed dentist's office but of course you failed to specify..." She trailed off seeing Alex's condition, bundled in his arms. "No…" she whispered. "Please don't tell me…"

But Alex replied before the Doctor could. "It's cool," she said, her speech slurred from anesthetic. "They're cool. Is all good." She offered a weak salute, and yawned. "They're all 'bout symbolic harmony or whatever."

"Symbiotic," said the Doctor gently. He turned to Sarah Jane, his eyes full of guilt for disappointing her yet again. "I promise, this is nowhere near as bad as it looks."

"Doctor, you…" Sarah Jane pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ridiculous man. Put her to bed. Or on the sofa, just… make absolutely sure there is nothing wrong with her. Then," she added, folding her arms. "We are going to have a talk. Alone."

The Doctor knew that tone of voice. There would be no escaping this one. Rather like a scolded child, he simply nodded, and took Alex from the room.

"We've got her stuff up in the guest room," she called after him. "You can set her up in there for now if you like."

The Doctor wondered about that, but decided he had other concerns for the moment.

…

The Doctor put her down on the bed. "There," he said. "You can get some rest now." But some remnant of his paternal instinct made him unable to leave. Not while she was on her bed with her shoes still on.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You can't sleep with your shoes on," he said.

"Have done before," she insisted. "But that's what Granny Edna always said too. Just...leave the socks on, alright. And put the shoes next to the bed so I can put them on quick if I need to run for it."

"Why would you need to run for it?" he asked, doing as she said. She shrugged, and he realized that she was probably cold lying there on top of the covers. He sighed and picked her up again, lifting her so he could place her under them. He started to straighten up, but then found himself going through the rest of the motions of tucking her in. He was surprised, even as he allowed the long-forgotten muscle memory to move him.

"Now," he said, kneeling next to her bed. "Why would you need to run for it, Alex? What could possibly be chasing you?"

"The...Daleks," she said, in a small voice. The Doctor felt a chill run through him. Perhaps she wasn’t naive at all. "That's what they called themselves."

He straightened up. "What do you know about the Daleks?"

"Look, I'm sorry I lied to you," Alex said. "I mean I'm not, really, it was better than…It was better than thinking that something's wrong with me. Just wanted to be useful."

"What makes you think something's wrong with you?"

Her eyes were closed. "I got adopted," she started, trying to speak clearly. ”And then they decided they didn't...want me. Which I can get, I understand that...My parents are prob'ly dead, whatever Uncle Jack says, and my family at Torchwood is mostly dead, and it's not like Jack and Gwen come up to see me much and...The first family that ever adopted me, they...they got killed. During that thing with the planets in the sky and...there were Daleks everywhere. They got killed. And I couldn't stop it, I just ran. But now." Her eyes snapped open and she sat up. "If I ever see one again, I'm going to look it right in the bloody eye-stalk and give it a piece of my mind. Not scared of anything anymore. Not scared of a bloody _ Dalek- _"

"Shh, don't try to sit up, get some rest," the Doctor said, gently urging her to lie back down. "And don't go chasing after Daleks, alright? That's my job. You really are incredibly brave for someone your age. You show no fear in the face of danger, but I think...really opening up as who you are scares you. I've only known you a day, but...I've seen you stare monsters in the face without blinking an eye, but the second you actually like something you keep it in your periphery. Am I right?” He paused to make certain she understood. "You kept your eyes on me until you were sure you could trust me, then you looked away at once. Always afraid if you look at something directly then it'll disappear. It's a useful trick in a world with Weeping Angels, but people are more blink and you'll miss them."

Alex just looked back at him in silence. It didn’t appear as though she believed him, as such, but through the haze of drugs she had taken it in to some degree.

As the Doctor nodded to himself and finally got up to leave, her arm flexed as though she was considering reaching for him before changing her mind. She seemed to steel herself.

"It's a community theatre."

This threw him off. "What is?"

"I didn't see who you were talking to...I was kind of out of it. It was mostly cryptic nonsense, like it was trying to be prophetic so I guess you prob’ly won't know til you know, you know? But it said the Trickster's weapon was at... a place of little renown where the people are seldom themselves. Where are people rarely themselves? On a stage. But not just any stage, this had to be one that wasn't prestigious. So I'm thinking...community theatre in Camden? Prob'ly a cheap one that doesn't put on very good shows. That's the answer to your riddle? I couldn't work out that other bit, about the three years or whatever..."

"No, you did beautifully. Thank you." The Doctor was floored, but impressed nonetheless. There was no infantilizing her now. "You're very clever. But then I should've gotten that by the fact that you were able to successfully bluff without me catching you. You know, for a brief moment I almost thought...But that's not important. You really are my fake-daughter, aren't you? Like fake-father like fake-daughter."

She smiled and closed her eyes again, with a faint chuckle. "Nah, I'm clever all on my own. Got nothing to do with fake genetics. Don't go taking all the credit, fake-dad."

And she fell asleep. The Doctor watched her for a moment, feeling oddly protective of her already. But he knew better than to linger long.

He turned around and found himself face to face with Sarah Jane. She smiled and walked away. He followed.

…

The Doctor began talking the moment they got to the kitchen. "I'm sorry," he said, immediately. He was saying that so much lately. "I was trying to keep all of you out of it - that's what's best for you, but...Alex caught me off guard. I was wrong. And I put her in danger because I was too caught up in what I was trying to do." He sighed. "As usual."

"Well she didn't end up getting hurt," Sarah Jane said, having already forgiven him. She had, in turn, been doing a lot of forgiving lately. "It was still reckless of you, but...Then again, Alex Mitchell is every bit as reckless as you are. Come to think of it, she's always reminded me a lot of you."

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Probably not all of it…" Sarah Jane replied. "But definitely enough. Came in just as you were asking what she was running from."

"Then you did hear all of it," he sighed. "Did you-"

"Know what happened to her?" she asked, anticipating his question. "No, I had no idea. She doesn't...talk much about her childhood. Keeps quiet, mostly. I knew something had happened to her, but I didn't imagine...I was trying so hard to protect her from living this kind of life. But I bet she was trying the same thing with us. Deliberately not talking about the Daleks and Torchwood just to pretend to be a normal girl and keep us out of it."

"It's an awful lot of coincidence," he said, gravely. He didn't believe in coincidences. 

"Yes. It is. But...Doctor...she opened up to you. She talked to you in a way that...she doesn't talk to anyone like that. I can tell she's growing fond of you already."

Sarah Jane had just said precisely the wrong thing. "Which is why it's good that I'm leaving now. I've got a lot to do - I've just had a clue about where the Trickster is. He's apparently got a weapon if only I can figure out where. I can't be hanging around taking care of a teenager. I'll just...She's still an innocent. Hanging around with me, well...I don't want to be responsible for corrupting her. Or worse."

"Doctor," Sarah Jane said, suddenly full of sorrow for her friend. "It's only just occurred to me to ask, but...Where's Rose? I thought you two would be joined at the hip by now." The look on his face gave her all the answers she needed. "I see." She put a sympathetic hand on his arm but he did not soften to it. "And I'm sorry. But Alex is so fragile right now, maybe just to give her some stability-"

"She should stay away from me. I'm very sorry, but I can't offer stability. She's..." He searched for a word that could adequately describe what she was. "Extraordinary, and I mean that without even a hint of hyperbole. But I can't help her. I'm not...capable of it. Alex has...well, she's been through too much. Too many people have let her down. Quite frankly I'm livid at her most recent parents - I don't know how they can have just done that to her-"

"I think maybe she wasn't the only one who's gotten attached," Sarah Jane said, with a knowing smile. "I heard you talking to her and...I think you saw yourself in her a bit. As Rani would say: Over-identify much?"

"It was j- it was the gas," he shrugged away from her touch and waved his hand dismissively, then ran it through his hair and pulled on a handful. "I couldn't bear to be another person to disappoint her. She doesn't deserve that."

"I think you're wrong," Sarah Jane replied, dropping her arm. Her hand fooled by the lingering sensation, she closed it at her side. "But I can see I can't change your mind."

The Doctor just looked at her for a moment. "I'm sorry."

Then he turned away, and was gone.


	2. Underjoyed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 9 year anniversary to this story! Can't believe it's been 9 years already! For some reason it feels like an instant and a lifetime all at once! 
> 
> Once again, thanks to my collaborator Meribor for all the great cleanup work she's doing on these!

** **

**(Chapter Art by [Meribor](https://seems-like-a-good-idea.tumblr.com/))**

**Camden, London: August 18th, 2015**

The Doctor had spent quite a bit of time staking out various theatres in this area, and finally found one that fit all the specifications from the riddle. It was a tiny, run-down little place that he almost wouldn't've noticed if he hadn't been specifically looking for it.

"The Bacchus Theatre," the Doctor read from the peeling sign. "It has to be this one. Explains all the Roman references in the riddle."

The Doctor then entered the building, finding himself in the middle of a rehearsal.

"Excuse me!" a man shouted, catching sight of him. "What are you doing? This is a private rehearsal!"

"Sorry, where are my manners," he said, flashing a smile and his psychic paper in one fluid motion. "John Smith. Theatre critic for the Guardian."

That opened some doors for him instantly. He found himself having to fend off nearly everyone involved in the production - from the director, Zachariah Penderghast, to the lead actress Lauren Franklin, to even the prop master Trey Vanderwaahl. They all wanted to be featured in the story he was pretending to put out. But even as overwhelming as this onslaught was, he had to admit it gave him good cover to poke around and ask questions as the day's rehearsals dragged on.

...

The play wasn't very good. Some very obvious whodunit with overblown acting. But he kept poking around, hoping to find some clue as to what this weapon of the Trickster's was. Why would it be hidden here, of all places? That's what he couldn't get out of his head.

He tried to turn his attention back to the lead understudy. Margot was an early 20-something with wavy blonde hair and a real desperate need to monologue at whoever would listen. "Of course I'm a better actress than Lauren. She's just got the job cuz she has bigger tits, but they're faker than she is," she went on derisively "There's a scoop for you. I'm only doing this show because I think it'll be good exposure, yeah? Make a break out role for me? You must have all kinds of big connections in your line of work."

"Yeah, I meet all sorts," he said vaguely, wanting badly to be out of this conversation.

This flipped a switch in her and she was laying on the charm even heavier than her mascara. "You know," she started, encroaching on the Doctor's personal space, "I don't have anything to be doing right now...since I'm just the understudy...We could go back to my dressing room and...I could give you a...private audition..." she went on, seductively. She then proceeded to butcher Shakespeare while tugging at his shirt, and he had to cut her off there.

"No, no, that's quite alright, thanks for the offer, I've seen enough," he said, fighting the urge to cough through the cloud of her perfume. She seemed distinctly displeased by this refusal.

Just then, some cue was given for the lead actress to come out on stage. Nothing happened.

"Lauren!" the director shouted. "Lauren, that was your cue!" Still nothing happened. "Has anyone seen Lauren?"

Another young actress ran on stage. "Nobody's seen her since we took five over an hour ago! We’ve been looking trying to find her, but she’s completely disappeared!"

There was some commotion while people started scouring the place looking for her. The Doctor joined in the search, scanning with his sonic screwdriver concealed in his pocket. She seemed to be nowhere to be found.

"You're doing an awful lot of poking around," Margot said to him. "I could chalk that up to journalistic curiosity, but you didn't seem at all surprised that something went on here today." She squinted at him. "What's that about? You a cop?" She queried.

He decided just to roll with it, thinking it might give him an in. "Yeah, sort of." He flashed his psychic paper again. "MI-6. Been tracking a dangerous criminal, got tipped off it might be in your area."

"It? As in...it's not human?"

"Possibly," he admitted. He turned to her with a clenched jaw and a serious look on his face. "But you can't tell any of this to anyone, you understand?"

"Absolutely," Margot said, suddenly thrilled by the prospect.

"You mind if I ask you a few questions?"

She let out a giggle. "Go for it."

"You noticed anything odd around here lately?"

"Odd how?"

"Maybe you've experienced some time loss?" he pressed. "Or your temper has been shorter than normal?"

"No, don't think so," Margot said. "I mean, sometimes I drink a bit much and lose a few hours, but that's normal for this place." Then she had an idea and lit up. "Can I help you find it? I'm just the understudy, I don't really have much to do during rehearsal except get hammered."

"I've noticed you all seem a bit drunk for the middle of the day," he said. "Why's that?"

"This is the Bacchus, Agent Smith," she said, as if that cleared it all up.

"Alright, you can help," the Doctor agreed. "But you can't tell anyone. And at the first sign of real trouble I'm pulling the plug on your involvement, you got that?"

"Loud and clear, boss," She said, beaming.

"It'll help to have someone on the inside anyway," he admitted. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "Can you think of anyone who might've been exhibiting abnormal behavior?"

She didn't even have to think about it. "If you want to talk to someone who acts strange," she leaned in, "I'd talk to the Phantom."

"The Phantom?"

"Yeah, the Phantom of the Opera," Margot said, in hushed tones. "That's what I call her anyway. Yeah…" she nodded toward the tech booth. "She knows everything that goes on around here."

Margot guided him to a ladder near the far corner of the room, and the two of them ascended onto a narrow sort of balcony upon which a single spotlight was stationed. At the right-hand side of the balcony was the tiny tech booth: a small room crammed full of many blinking lights and buttons that controlled the entire stage.

When the Doctor and Margot entered the tech booth, they found a red-haired woman in her early 20s sitting and listening to music through big headphones that pressed her short hair out at odd angles. She was wearing a green and black striped shirt that had a little alien on it, a black velvet mesh skirt with stars on it, big black boots, and a leather jacket. She was also wearing thick black glasses over her eyes which had a great deal of sloppily applied black makeup on them and matched her black lipstick.

"Hello?" Margot said, waving her arms in the air. "Hello, we've got a few questions to ask you? Oh for God's sake-" She snatched the headphones off the woman's head. "Earth to Phantom, are you listening to me?"

The redhead was angered by this intrusion, and snatched back her headphones. But in the struggle the headphones had come loose and now the music she was listening to freely floated about the room. "Sorry," the redhead said sarcastically. Her accent seemed to be Scottish - Edinburgh, if he was not mistaken. "Not currently taking any transmissions from Earth, but you can submit a communications request and we'll get back to you in approximately 3 to 5 billion years."

"See what I mean?" Margot said to the Doctor, rolling her eyes. "She always says weird things like that."

"Mind if I ask you a few questions?" the Doctor asked the redhead. He fished out his psychic paper another time and showed it to her. "John Smith with the Guardian." Her face was unreadable as she examined the paper. "I was here writing a piece when this all started happening," he started, scanning the small room." Anyway, I've talked to everyone else since Lauren's disappearance, but haven't seen you yet." He stopped and looked her in the eyes. "You didn't come down to help find her?"

"Not my department," she said, steadily. "I mostly just keep to myself up here. Not the most social butterfly, me."

"Did you see her up here maybe before she disappeared?" the Doctor asked. "Maybe she came up to talk to you?"

"Nobody talks to me," she rolled her eyes. "I'm the only one who bothers coming up here, apart from sometimes the director."

"That's because you make strict rules about who's allowed up here!" Margot insisted. She turned to the Doctor and rolled her eyes again. "She never lets anyone up here."

"You'll mess up my set up. Besides, what business would you have up here? As you can see, I'm all alone up here as usual. Nobody up here but Earth's most unwanted."

"You see everything that goes on up here," Margot said. "Don't tell me you don't know what happened to Lauren," she hissed.

"She probably couldn't hack it," said the redhead, maintaining her stoicism. "I mean, it's Hell Week. Some people crack under the pressure." She shrugged.

"Not you though?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm a professional. If anything, I thrive under the pressure of Hell Week."

"That's because you're some kind of freaky demon, aren't you?" Margot cut in.

"Oh you caught me," the woman said, sarcastically. "Go picking on the vengeance demon, real smart." She chuckled darkly.

"So you admit-

"It's a Buffy reference," the Doctor interjected. "The second reference to 90s pop culture she's made since we've been up here. I could see you being an Anya, but you strike me as more of a Willow."

"That's type-casting," the redhead replied. But she didn't seem insulted. "You ask me, Lauren just freaked and ran off. It happens."

"She's not answering her phone," Margot said.

"Maybe that's because no one wants to talk to you, Margot."

Margot was infuriated by this. "Now listen here-"

"Oh I see what this is," the red head replied, rolling her eyes. "Margot couldn't quite hack it trying to get leading lady parts so she wants to try her hand at playing detective. Good luck with this one, mate. She's got all the deductive skills of a cheese danish."

The Doctor suddenly became aware that when the headphones had been snatched off her head that music had begun playing in the small room. He focused on the lyrics.

_ "The doctor released me _

_ a case of underjoyed _

_ No lack of nutrition _

_ something I can't avoid _

_ No mental condition _

_ maybe I'm paranoid _

_ or maybe _

_ maybe _

_ I'm just bored-" _

Margot noticed that he'd been distracted. "God, why do you always listen to this garbage?" She snapped at the redhead.

"It's not Garbage," she replied, defensively. "I can play you some Garbage though, if you want. I have their entire discography. They _ are _my favorite band, after all. But this is-"

The Doctor finished with her. "Jack Off Jill." She paused, regarding him with that same unreadable expression as he continued. "Song's called 'Underjoyed.' From the _ Clear Hearts, Grey Flowers _era if I'm not mistaken? More 90s pop culture for you?"

"I'd hardly call Jack Off Jill popular culture," the woman replied. "And even so, this album came out in 2000."

"Close enough."

The song continued in the background.

_ "An old friend convinced me _

_ that he was underjoyed _

_ He never caused friction _

_ his ego he destroyed _

_ He made a decision _

_ He jumped into the void _

_ or maybe _

_ maybe _

_ he's just bored-" _

"Give us the room for a moment, Margot," the Doctor said.

"Are you sure?" Margot asked, not wanting to miss the woman being reprimanded.

"I'll be just fine, thank you," the Doctor said. Margot left and only then did the Doctor feel free to speak. "You know who I am." This was a flat statement.

"Don't really think anyone knows who you are."

"How's that?" He crossed his arms.

"John Smith. It's an obvious fake name," She deduced.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to ask yours?" He retorted.

"Rude of you to ask for that which you won't give freely yourself."

"Fair point."

"So is it 'John Smith' because you're trying to be boring or John Smith because you want everyone to know you're a liar like the guy who wrote the book the movie Pocahontas was based off?"

"You talk like you were there."

"I talk like I can read and watch documentaries. And what's the deal with the blank sheet of paper you were waving around? Everyone else seems to be buying into it, and you don't even seem to be selling."

"Psychic paper. Funny that it didn't work on you."

"Yeah, well, I'm much cleverer than these mere humans."

"So you're not human?"

She gave him a funny look. "You trying to sweet talk me? Cuz the mysterious stranger thing doesn't work on me. If there's anything I've learned in my 23 years it's that you don't trust a guy who likes the same kind of music that I do and _ definitely _don't trust a guy who tells you what you want to hear."

"I get the feeling that you're motto is more 'don't trust guys in general'."

"Now you're getting it."

"Have you noticed anything odd lately? Anyone acting out of the ordinary?"

"This is the Bacchus," she said, flatly. "You realize what we do here? It's mostly drunk theatre. Drunk Shakespeare and the like...So tell me again what counts as someone 'acting odd.'"

" I _ had _ noticed that everyone seemed pretty sloshed for the middle of the day," he admitted. "But you're very sober. Why is that?"

"I don't drink."

"Maybe I'm asking the wrong questions. Have you possibly had a shorter temper than usual?"

"I'm a red-haired Scot. What exactly constitutes a short temper?"

"Fair point. Have you maybe experienced any unexplained time loss? Moments when time just seemed to disappear? This might be easier to identify since you couldn't blame it on drink."

She definitely looked at him strangely, then. "Time loss, Mulder? Time can't just disappear," she said, slowly. "It's a universal invariant."

"So you're an X-Files fan, Agent Scully?"

"The show infuriates me," she responded.

"So that's a yes," he said, as if that settled it. "So that's what...all this is about, then?" He gestured to her outfit. “Hiding in plain sight, are we? Ironic tees and all?”

"It _ is _kind of my thing. You know, if I thought there was foul play involved with Lauren, I'd start asking her understudies. I know Margot would do anything for a big break. But if you'll excuse me, I'm getting a migraine." She turned off the music that was playing and snatched a small device off of a nearby table.

"Is that a Discman?" the Doctor asked, watching her put her headphones into it.

"Always the tone of judgment with you people," she said, sounding exasperated. "Look, not everyone has money for fancy MP3 players."

"That's an old off-brand portable CD player, though," the Doctor insisted. 

_ Must’ve been manufactured early 90s at the very latest _ , he thought to himself. _ Did I somehow get my years mixed up again? _

But she simply jammed her headphones back over her ears and tuned him out. He could see from her very rigid posture and the way she stared resolutely forward through the glass window before her that she wouldn’t answer another question. He knew, however, that she was watching his reflection in the window, so he left.

"I'm starting to think maybe you're right, Margot," the Doctor said as he exited the tech booth. "She's very defensive and definitely hiding something." He began clambering down the ladder.

"Would explain a lot about her if she was some kind of murdering loony," Margot said, having already reached the auditorium floor when he’d asked her to leave. "I mean don't you think she's kind of-"

"Spooky?" the Doctor mused, looking back up at the tech booth where he caught the redhead quickly looking away.

"...Not the word I was gonna use," Margot said, obliviously. "I was gonna say mental, but sure. Are you gonna arrest her now?"

"Arrest her?" the Doctor asked, tearing his attention from the tech. "Why?"

"I mean she's the obvious alien, right? Look at her outfit."

"Sure, I had the thought too," he admitted. "But then no alien would dress like that. They’d find it offensive. She'd be an easy red herring for the real alien. No, I need more information first. I made that mistake recently of assuming someone was the alien before I had enough information. I won't make that mistake again."

The director came out from backstage. "Why don't we all break for the night?" the director said. "See if Lauren doesn't turn up."

"Good idea," the Doctor said. "Without all of you hanging around, I can get more investigating done."

"What do you mean without all of us?" Margot asked, putting her hands on her hips. "Thought you were letting me help?"

"I think this has to be as far as this goes, now, Margot," he said, trying to break the news to her. "You've been a great help, really you have...I just need to do the rest of this on my own. It's too dangerous." He tried not to sound condescending. 

"But-"

"Margot, you're an actress." He put his hands on her shoulders once more. "You were Lauren's understudy. If she doesn't come back, you've got to put the show on yourself." He raised his eyebrows. "The show must go on, and all that?"

She looked unhappy with this. "I guess you're right."

"Course I am!" He threw his hands up and flashed a wide smile.

"I just thought...maybe...We were getting to kind of be friends now."

He felt bad about this - he'd been afraid this would happen. He clapped his hands together. "Margot, listen to me...We're not friends. I'm not even sticking around after this is over. I'm just strictly here to catch the bad guy then I'm moving on. You understand?"

"Yeah, I guess," She conceded, a bit put out. 


	3. Heart-Sized Crush

(Chapter art by[ Meribor)](https://seems-like-a-good-idea.tumblr.com/)

Once he was sure everyone had gone home for the night, the Doctor used his sonic screwdriver to enter the theatre. He was surprised to find that there was still light in the tech booth and a single spotlight was shining on center stage, where an old-fashioned microphone was set up. He walked forward to investigate more, and heard some talking from backstage.

He stepped forward, peering out into the bright lights. It was that girl again, the red-haired one from earlier. Now she looked different. She'd left her Walkman in the tech booth, so her headphones weren't wrapped securely around her head. She’d abandoned her earlier clothes in favor of a short red dress with a black sash around the middle that clasped in a heart shape. She smoothed it down in a way that indicated that she was a bit uncomfortable in something this form-fitting and felt a bit self-conscious. She’d changed her lipstick from black to red. But her look wasn’t completely new. Her short hair remained a mess and still stuck out at odd angles.

He stayed in the shadows, clandestinely observing. She moved towards the center stage, her posture straight and shoulders back even as she messed around with something on her phone. She cleared her throat as she reached the microphone beneath the single spotlight on center stage.

"_ Lord, we know what we are _ ," she said, speaking into the microphone as if testing it. " _ But know not what we may be." _With a jolt, the Doctor recognized the words as Ophelia’s from Hamlet. She cleared her throat again, apparently satisfied with something on her phone. "That should do it, then."

She hit a button and within seconds the stage was filled with the sound of an old-school swing number. The Doctor exited the door stage right that led into the audience area so that he could get a better look.

Music always mollified her. It put her at ease with herself in a way she couldn't be with others. Music understood her in a way that people just...didn’t.

Now, in the spotlight with her music, she felt free to close her eyes and breathe. Her shoulders, which normally stuck out like two knives that could repel invaders from her personal space, were slowly loosening. Instead of crossed, her arms relaxed at her side. The tension slowly left her body in waves and she smiled a bit to herself in a way that was almost a little endearing. That was the smile of someone who was having fun, but thought they were being a little ridiculous. Someone who’s sure they can’t actually pull this off, but doesn’t really give a damn. She hooked a leg around the mic stand and giggled to herself before trying to become serious again and singing:

_ “When I saw you up on stage _

_ my heart was in a blazing rage _

_ my thighs nearly went up in flames _

_ I knew I had to get your name _

_ We talked the whole night through _

_ and I never got sick of you _

_ and then you left that afternoon _

_ and since then I've been thinkin' of you-” _

"_ She's quite good _," he thought to himself. He stood, transfixed, off in a shadowy corner where she couldn't quite see. He watched her dance through the chorus and the second verse, occasionally laughing to herself in a self-conscious way. 

_ The funny thing is, _ he thought. _ I bet she’d actually pull off this song if she gave herself more credit. Her insecurity about it is obviously showing through. _

But he had to admit he found that quality more endearing. She was, after all, doing this for no audience - it was just for her own enjoyment. There was no air of competition or pretention about it. She was just having fun. The fact that she obviously felt a little silly about it made him like it more than he would have if she’d been taking it at all seriously.

_ “I just want to see you again _

_ Whether we become lovers _

_ Or whether we become friends-” _

Then something rather large fell from the beams above her head and knocked her to the ground.

The Doctor ran forward at once.

"What the fuck?" the young woman shouted, crawling quickly out from what appeared to be a body. Then she focused on it. "Lauren?"

The Doctor reached center stage, and used two fingers to check the pulse on Lauren's neck. "Dead," he said.

"You couldn't tell that by the freaky bites?" the girl gestured, still not back on her feet. She turned her focus to the Doctor. "What the fuck are you still doing here?"

"Could ask you the same question," he shot back.

"I always stay late," she said defensively. "I wanted to test out my new sound system that I installed, try one of the few Devil Doll songs I’ve been too scared to touch..." She hit the button on her phone to turn the music off. "Besides," she digressed, "I like the feel of an empty theatre. There's always some lingering magic here when I get to be alone." _ Why am I telling him this? _ Putting her defenses back up. "Were you spying on me?" 

"No." Now it was his turn to be defensive.

"Because if you were taking any pictures," she roared, "I demand you give them to me right now-"

"I came here trying to find Lauren. Just stumbled on your little performance by accident." He offered her a hand so she could get to her feet. She first looked at him feistily then swatted his hand away and rose to her feet on her own. "You know, you don't seem at all fazed by this," he asserted "Shouldn't you be more, I don't know, freaked out when you just got flattened by a body?" he asked.

"Are we back to accusing me, now?" she asked, smoothing down her dress. "Look, I've already told you that I have nothing to do with this. You accuse me of something I did do, and I'll cop to it, but I'm sick of always having people assume I'm the one behind things all the time. I know I make a good scapegoat, but damn!" She looked up into the rafters from where Lauren's body fell, then back at her body. "I don't know much about...lividity or whatever...but if I had to venture a guess as to time of death, I'd say she was killed while we were all around earlier and then they stashed her up there where nobody would check."

The Doctor quickly examined the body. "You're most likely right."

"Well then we've got a problem."

"Why's that?"

"Because if something was stashing the body here then that means there was intent to come back for it. It probably expects that nobody will still be here by now, so it might already be back in the building,"she surmised. The young woman looked at him, sharply. "It's not you, is it? First rule of the murder mystery is to look at the mysterious stranger."

"It's not me," he said. "But you keep saying 'it'."

"Sorry, my first instinct is to say it's an alien. Force of habit."

"How very _ human _ of you," He smirked.

"Don't insult me."

"I'm still not convinced it wasn't you, to be honest," the Doctor said. He straightened up and showed the young woman what he'd found on the body. "See this? It's a Grackenvite dart. Grackenvites shoot these from their fingers to immobilize their prey with the toxin in them. Most known species in the universe feel it as a paralytic, and it has the side effect of memory loss. I found evidence of Grackenvite venom when I was looking around earlier - just trace amounts. But I didn't have full confirmation until now."

"So that's why you asked me about missing time?"

"Not exactly. I asked because Grackenvites are parasites. They attach themselves to a host organism and occasionally take control of that host when they need to feed or feel threatened in some way. The host has no idea - they just fall asleep for the event, essentially. So I asked on the off-chance that perhaps you'd noticed that you were missing time. Another side effect," he added, "is a short temper."

"You know, if you think about it...that's sort of the perfect cover. I mean...It set up shop in a drunk theatre. Any time loss could be perfectly covered by the fact that people are wasted 95% of the time."

"That's a good point." The Doctor couldn't explain it, but he was starting to feel less and less like she was the culprit. Not for any logical reason, mind...just a gut feeling. She still bothered him and he had some suspicions about her, so he decided to keep her around for the moment. "I think I should let you in on something, though."

"What's that?"

"She's not dead - at least, not yet. The venom has acted as a paralytic, but she'll wake up after a few hours."

Her jaw dropped. “And you didn’t mention this _ sooner _?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know if you were the killer or not. I was looking for a reaction.” He scooped up Lauren. “We should get her somewhere out of the way where she’ll be safe. Maybe a dressing room?”

"We?"

…

The Doctor laid Lauren out on a small sofa in a dressing room and conducted a brief examination of her. “She doesn’t seem to have signs of concussion or broken bones,” he said. “It’s a miracle, if I’m being honest. She should wake up fine.”

"So what are you, really?" the redhead whispered.

"What do you mean?" He'd thought he was passing well enough.

"Oh come on, don't give me that bollocks about being a reporter. What are you, really? A cop? MI-6? CIA? I don't generally like cops-"

"Relax," he said, startled by how defensive she was. "I'm not police. I'm just someone passing through. You can call me the Doctor, by the way."

She scoffed. "That's definitely some kind of weird spy codename. But I guess that explains something."

"What would that be, Miss Rosenberg?" he asked, opting again for a Buffy reference.

"Why you're so irritating. I'm kind of prejudiced against doctors. Hate them almost as much as I hate cops."

The two of them exited the dressing room and the Doctor pulled his sonic out of his pocket.

"What's that, then?" she asked, looking at it warily.

"Sonic screwdriver," he replied. "Can use it for all sorts of things, but for now..." He shone it on the door. "That'll keep anything from getting in and hurting her while we're looking for it."

"So just 'the Doctor', then? Bit self-important, if you ask me," she continued. "You're so insistent on calling me names - are you sure it's not Froderick Fronkensteen or something?"

He grinned, startled again by the ancient references this girl seemed to have in unlimited supply. "Only if you're eyegore."

"That's refreshing."

"What is?"

"You comparing me to someone who isn't a gorgeous redhead," she replied. "Much less to live up to when I'm being compared to a lab assistant with a hump."

"What hump?" he replied, watching her to see if she'd finally smile at the reference. She’d had quite a nice smile before she’d known anyone was watching her. He couldn’t explain why, but he wanted to see it again.

No such luck. "We should have a look around," he finally said. "See if we can't find some clues."

"So what's the deal with these Grackenvites?" she asked. "Like what's their Kryptonite, or whatever?"

"It's pretty individual. They're stronger and more resilient than their host organism, but they integrate completely. They take on some of the weaknesses of the host - whether it's a flaw of the species or some kind of physical or psychological defect the host has."

"So this one picked a human?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "That seems stupid. I mean, humans are soft and fragile and just _ full _of exploitable individual weakness."

"You'd be surprised, humans are pretty tough," The Doctor replied. "Get out there sometime, maybe I'll show you."

"What a weird thing to-" she began.

"Could you do me a favor?" he asked, ignoring this.

"Depends on what it is," she replied.

"Take out your phone. I don't fancy turning on all the lights and letting it know where we are, but we could use a little illumination."

The young woman obliged, fighting the urge to say _ lumos _under her breath as she did so.

They were startled when the phone illuminated a person standing right in front of them.

"Christ on a cracker, Margot," the redhead shouted. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"I decided I didn't fancy being left out," the blonde replied, stubbornly. "I wanted to see this through."

"That's admirable, Margot, but really not the best time," said the redhead. "We found Lauren.” She half glanced at the Doctor and decided to use his lie. “She's dead."

Margot scoffed. "Oh come on now, you can cut it out with the theatrics. There's no need to be so dramatic."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Margot, we're literally in a theatre. If I'm not able to be dramatic, I might die."

"Ladies, if you could stop your bickering," the Doctor said, quietly. "Look, Margot, it's very dangerous here at the moment-"

But Margot was laughing at the redhead. "And what are you _ wearing _ ? You just straight up stole that from wardrobe, didn't you? Let me give you a newsflash - you are _ not _filled out enough to pull off that look."

"Well hey, now, just a minute-" the Doctor began, wondering why he felt the sudden need to come to this stranger's aid.

"Margot, we really don't have time for your petty bullying right now," the redhead retorted. "I'm in the middle of an investigation."

"Investi-" Margot looked absolutely livid. "You told _ me _ to go home, but you let _ her _tag along?" She stared daggers at the Time Lord.

"It's super weird that that makes you jealous, Margot," said the red-head.

Margot pushed the redhead against the wall and pressed her arm against her throat to keep her pinned there. "Don't you tell _ me _ what's weird, you little freak!" she hissed, in a way that only the two of them could hear. "Don't forget that _ I _know your secret!"

The redhead blinked, surprised by this. "Margot..." she said, looking at her with a look of mounting horror. "Your eyes..."

Margot's eyes were glowing red as coals, and when she realized she'd been made, she began unhinging her jaw as multiple rows of sharp teeth sprang from them. She reeled back suddenly, grabbing at her own eyes as if something was burning her. The redhead took this opportunity to escape.

"What happened?" the Doctor asked, as she made it over to him.

"Pepper spray," the girl grinned, waggling a small tube of it in his face. "Never go anywhere without it."

"Isn't that illegal in the UK?" he asked her.

She crossed her arms. "You said you're not a cop!"

But Margot was starting to get her bearings. "Never mind that!" the Doctor said, taking her by the arm. "We need to run!"

They began running, but she pulled away from him. "Don't _ touch _me!" she snapped. They came to a stop.

"Alright, sorry, not touching!" he replied, holding his hands in the air. "I come in peace." He suddenly grinned. "Always wanted to say that."

She looked at him strangely. "Me too," she breathed, softening towards him a bit.

There was a crash behind them. "We need to keep running," he said. "Come up with a plan."

"The tech booth!" she shouted. "We can get up there and pull up the ladder so she can't get at us, then come up with a plan!"

"Brilliant!"

“Well come on then!” she shouted, racing off at once. “Allons-y!”

He was momentarily stunned, but ran after her once he regained his composure. “Hey! That’s my line!”

“What?” she shouted back.

“Allons-y! I always say that! It’s my thing!”

“You can’t claim a French phrase as your _ thing!” _ she protested. “You know, that is _ such _a colonizer attitude to have! You English are all the same!”

“I’m not…” he argued, feebly. “I’m not English…Just have the accent…”

“Whatever. I just know when I was learning French, the French still had rules against the English claiming their language.”

He was a bit surprised. “You don’t speak French?”

“Are you going to stop telling me what I can and can’t do?”

The two made it to the tech booth, making it just in time.

"Me first!" the redhead said, taking to the ladder first.

"Why, because you're a girl?" he asked.

"No, because I'm not going to be the idiot who gets bitten by the blonde-zombie just because I was being a martyr."

"Fair point," he said. He tried to give her a boost to help her go faster, but she swatted his hands away from her waist.

"Hey, what did I say about touching?" she snapped. "I can't believe I'm about to use this reference to illustrate my point, but the dress is taffeta! Hands _ off _, Casanova!"

She neared the top of the ladder when Margot caught up with them. The blonde succeeded in giving the Doctor a bite right on the leg. He managed to kick her off and made it to the top. The other girl pulled the ladder up.

"Alright, we need a plan," the Doctor said, after they'd made it up to their safe haven. The two of them looked down through the window, where they could see Margot still glaring at them from the floor. "Maybe we should've locked the exits? Kept her from getting loose?"

"No, I think she's going to stay where she is," the redhead said. "You said this thing has the same weaknesses as her? She gets very fixated on holding a grudge and very _ particularly _doesn't like me." She wrapped her arms around herself as she looked down at Margot. "Good to know she still has the human weakness for pepper spray," she chuckled "Nobody likes to be pepper sprayed."

"Oddly enough there are some active ingredients in pepper spray that are known to be poisonous to Grackenvites, but only in large quantities. What other weaknesses does she have?" the Doctor asked. "You seem to know her pretty well."

"Uh, well..." she had to think about this. "She gets jealous easily - must be why she revealed herself back there, she didn't like that you were letting me investigate, remember?"

"I dimly recall," he said.

"And...oh. Oh I've got an idea. That sonic thing you've got - does it wreak havoc on audio equipment?"

"Yeah, pretty much decimates it."

"Oh...well, never mind on that. Not a good enough payback for a feedback loop. I quite like my rig intact...but I am onto something there. You see...Margot _ really _doesn't like my music, especially the stuff with screaming in it. D'you think if I flood the place with all the lights my rig can come up with and a heavy dose of screaming then she might get disoriented long enough for you to make it down with some pepper spray and fend her off?"

"There isn't enough pepper spray in your bottle to-"

The redhead rolled her eyes and pulled a Marauder's map backpack from under the counter. She unzipped a pocket and pulled out several more bottles. "You underestimate me," she said, smugly.

"Why do you-" he began, suddenly a bit concerned. "Never mind. It's a good plan. Surprisingly high-tech for someone who still has a Denon DCP-50." He nodded over at her Walkman that was sitting nearby.

She bristled. "Don't you talk about my Denon DCP-50 in that tone of voice! It's cutting edge!"

"Yeah, cutting edge of 1991!"

"Well it's been a while since I've had the time to make my way down to RadioShack!"

"RadioShack?" he asked her. "What year do you think this is? What _ country _do you think this is?" He had to think about it himself.

"Oh my god, are you just gonna stand there or are you going to take these pepper spray bottles and go zap a bitch?"

"Me? I thought-"

"Doctor, if you think I'm going to let you even so much as think about messing with my rig then you are sadly mistaken. You'll go blundering around and mess something up. This is essentially my little universe, and I'm the god of it. Got it?"

"Got it," he said, in a teasing sort of way. "Alright, sure, I'll take the pepper spray." He picked them up.

"Take this too." She tossed him a headset.

"What's this for?"

"I'm not going to be able to hear you if something goes wrong, so take it so we can communicate."

He put it on his head. "Anyone ever tell you that you talk funny?"

She crossed her arms. "No matter which language I talk in, they don't seem to stop." She looked away from him and instead at her soundboard. "Now hop to it, all hell is about to break loose." She cracked her knuckles as she focused. "Groovy."

...

The tech flooded the entire auditorium with lights of all colors, rotating and moving them in a disorienting sort of way. At the same time as the lights came on, a rough-sounding rock song came on. In it a woman sang - though he wouldn't call it singing so much as wailing. The Doctor made it to the ground, looking around cautiously for Margot, but the sound of the screaming had evidently pushed her back further. 

_ "Erase the past _

_ I burn my home _

_ Kiss your passport _

_ Hotel aftershow _

_ So now i'm really _

_ In a fucking mess _

_ I got one suitcase _

_ But no address-" _

The woman stopped screaming as the music suddenly became softer and she quietly sang.

_ "Nothing...nowhere...No one..." _

"What song is this?" the Doctor asked.

"Don't take that tone with me," the tech said through his headphones. "KatieJane Garside is a genius. This is Queen Adreena. Hotel Aftershow." She shone a spot down into the crowd. "Margot is there, by the way.”

He looked in the indicated direction, catching sight of a clearly confused and disoriented Margot. She was twitching a lot, knocking into things as she tried to move in any sort of direction. The music continued to blare as all this was going on and began to get screamy again.

_ "Gravity has _

_ Changed her fucking mind _

_ I'm a lost hotel _

_ In space and time _

_ So book me in _

_ For your last show _

_ Its inconsequential _

_ Nowhere to go..." _

When it got quiet again, the Doctor found Margot cowering. "Please," she sobbed. "Please make it stop..."

"It'll stop when you let go of this girl," he said. "You can't keep using her."

"This is none of your business," the parasite within her hissed. "This is symbiotic. We protect each other."

"But you hurt others. That's my business."

"You'd really have me let her go?" the parasite asked.

"Yes."

"And you'll be enforcing that how?"

"I'll pry you out of her by any means necessary," The Doctor threatened.

"Then I will use the same means in order to protect my claim."

Margot rose up with glowing red eyes and attacked just as the screaming started again.

_ "Nothing! Nowhere! No one!" _

There was a brief struggle while the Doctor pepper sprayed her several times, but it kept enraging her more. Clearly the Grackenvite wasn't going down without a fight. The song was winding to a close with the typical Queen Adreena flair for cacophony when the Doctor managed to get Margot to the floor.

"What's the Trickster's plan?" he insisted. "How do you figure in?"

The Grackenvite laughed hoarsely. "You don't get it, you never do. The plan was always infiltration. Get someone close to you, and you'll protect them at great cost."

This thought horrified the Doctor and caught him off guard, so when she lunged again he realized he was out of pepper spray. Margot got him to the ground this time and was about to go for the jugular when a new song started. He hardly noticed, though, because it was another screamy Queen Adreena song.

"Yo, she-bitch," the redhead said, jumping out from seemingly nowhere with a stolen line from the Evil Dead. "Let's go." She pulled out the same can of mace she'd used before and sprayed her in the face.

Margot howled and lunged at the redhead instead.

"That's right, that's what I thought," the redhead taunted. "You never really wanted to hurt him, did you? So why don't you leave him out of it? This is between you and me, eh? Just you and me. So let's tango."

"Why...are you so...weird?" It panted.

"Says the chick with the glowing eyes?" She raised her eyebrows. "Don't get me wrong, it's a mad-cool cosplay look but like you're not one to judge."

"I'll rip your throat out," she growled.

"Oh goodie, I've always wanted to be a vampire. Now are you gonna attack already, or are we gonna keep doing the side-step?"

Margot snarled and leapt at her, unhinging her jaw and curling her hands into claws. The girl allowed herself to be tackled. "God, you're so easy to bait," she rolled her eyes, snapping a pair of big headphones over Margot's head and hitting play on her Discman. "Get ready for a concentrated dose of music therapy blasted straight into your ears, you half-wit."

A Jack Off Jill CD was in the Discman, but not the same one she'd been listening to earlier. It had been paused strategically at a screamy part as well.

"_ STOP IT, you're hurting me!" _

Margot screamed and tried to claw it off but had her arms pinned to her side by the Doctor and his new comrade as they held the headphones on long enough for it to kill the Grackenvite inside of her.

"And that," the redhead said, as Margot was lying on the floor afterwards, "Is the real power of music." She pulled her headphones off of Margot and turned the CD off.

"Jack Off Jill again?" he asked. "Sorry, it's been a few hundred years since I've heard them so I'm a little rusty...That wasn't "French Kiss the Elderly", was it?"

"It was," she said. "Always liked that one."

"And this other one that's still playing on the loudspeaker?"

"Queen Adreena. A Bed of Roses." She was oblivious to the way he reacted to that title because she was using her remote to turn it off. "You gonna apologize now?"

"Alright, I'm sorry I thought you were the alien-"

"Not for that, I was honestly very flattered by that. I don't mean apologize to me. I mean apologize to my Discman." She said, smirking. 

"Alright, fine, you got me. I apologize profusely to your Denon DCP-50. Without it, we might have lost our lives today."

She seemed satisfied with that answer. "Damn right, we would've. Tough little machine, that. Might be an outdated piece of tech, but nothing is quite so sturdy as my DCP-50." She made a face. "God do I always sound like an infomercial? Please kill me if I ever sound so capitalist again."

"She'll be fine," the Doctor said, nodding at Margot. "She'll have some mild memory loss, but everything will be mostly normal. I'm gonna...go check on Lauren. See if she's awake yet."

Margot stirred after he was gone and looked up at the redhead. "You...saved my life?" she asked.

"Don't get used to it," the redhead said, uncomfortably.

"I owe you..." she said, grabbing her wrist. "Seriously, I...I won't tell your secret to anyone, alright?"

"Alright, yeah, no need to get weepy," the redhead said, extricating herself.


	4. Bartender

(Chapter art by [Meribor](https://seems-like-a-good-idea.tumblr.com/))

They put the injured girls into a taxi with the promise that they'd tell no one what happened that night and sent them off to the hospital to get checked out.

"You alright?" the Doctor asked the redhead when they were standing in the cold night air afterwards. “Should we get you checked out too?”

"No, it’s just a headache..." she said. "I get these a lot."

"I guess I should be going now."

"I guess you should."

Neither of them moved.

"Can I give you a lift back home then?" he asked her.

She didn't immediately answer.

"Hello?" He waved a hand in front of her face. "Earth-like planet to Ginny Weasley."

She blinked, as if coming back to herself. "Sorry, did you say something? I totally spaced."

He started laughing.

"What?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. "What's so funny?"

"Spaced," he repeated. "That's funny."

She smiled in spite of herself and chuckled a bit as well. "Guess it is. Linguistics, man. It's fun."

"Sorry," he shook his head, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. "It's just...got that bite, you know? Grackenvite venom is a paralytic on humans but on my species it's a bit more like...well, the best parts of being drunk and high."

"Sounds like a good time," she said. "Wait, what do you mean your species?" But he looked a bit unsteady on his feet so she reached out to steady him. "Woah, easy there, lightweight!" She sighed. "Alright, there's no way you're driving home in this state. What am I going to do with you?"

Not knowing what else to do, she took him inside and got him settled on the same sofa that he’d had Lauren on earlier. This was a bit of an effort in his condition. "I'm gonna go change, alright? Don't wander off."

He chuckled. "That's usually my line."

She sighed. "Well maybe you can get used to this for a change. Stay _right _here. Don't move. Don't wander off. Most importantly don't _touch _anything. I won't have you messing with the prop table or costumes or anything important, understand?"

"Crystal," he said. "Wait, you didn't say 'is that clear'..."

"I mean it," she said one more time. "_Stay."_

When she returned, she'd changed into black sweatpants and a black and white tshirt that had a typewriter on it and the words 'I write fiction, what's your superpower?' She was also wearing a Marauders Map backpack - she'd needed her hands free for the two mugs she was carrying. She handed him one.

"Here." She put down her own mug and her other items on the makeup station.

"Smells good, what is it?" the Doctor asked, still giddy from the effects of the toxin.

"Butterbeer," she replied, looking for something in her bag. "Non-alcoholic, of course, because I don't drink. Not that I'm against self-medication, per se, alcohol just doesn't do it for me. I've been told that coffee is good for making people less drunk and, well, I don't drink coffee. Also currently out of tea. But I make really good butterbeer. Drink up." She took some bandages out of her pocket. "Now let me see that bite."

He raised his eyebrows. "You run tech for a theatre all by yourself, you speak 2 languages-"

"Four," she corrected him.

"Sorry?" he laughed, quizzically.

"Four languages," she insisted. "If you include English."

"No you don't," he replied, amazed.

"Don't tell me what I don't do," she replied again.

"Alright, so _ four _languages, and you're suddenly a nurse too? Or are you a medical doctor, Agent Scully?"

"No, I've told you I don't like doctors. I just picked up a thing or two about basic first aid in my travels."

"Your travels?" he asked.

But she wasn't going to say so easily. "Let me see that bite."

He rolled up the leg of his trousers, exposing the still bleeding wound.

"It's not so bad," she said. "I've seen worse-"

"Got a lot of experience in alien bites, Scully?"

"Worse _ wounds _," she added. "I've never had the pleasure of meeting an alien, unfortunately."

"Well you have now."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure I have. This wound is pretty nasty, but it's not too bad. I'll disinfect it if you'll hold still and not act like a baby. Also I need you to elevate the leg for me."

He laughed to himself, giddy from the Grackenvite venom and jumping straight to a Young Frankenstein reference. "Elevate me," he said.

She glared at him.

There was a pause, while he took a sip of his drink. He didn't even question where she'd get the ingredients so fast in a place like this, because the thought didn't occur to him in this state. The butterbeer really was quite good, but he had the feeling that if he brought that up she would just ignore him. She finished dressing his wound and then winced.

"You don't seem very shaken up," he said. "All things considered. Most humans I meet at least show some fear. But I don't think I've seen you be properly afraid even once. You were too curious to be afraid."

"Yeah, well, that's what always gets me in trouble, isn't it?"

"Is trouble a bad thing?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On how much fun I'm having."

"Was this fun?"

"It was a good distraction."

"Still got that headache?" 

"Yeah it's just this pounding..." she trailed off. "Okay, you don't mind if I turn on some music, do you?"

"Isn't music actually worse for a headache?"

"Not for me it isn't."

"Oh, right," he replied, with a smirk. "It all makes sense now."

She sighed with exasperation. "What does?" She had decided it was just best to go along with whatever train of thought he was on.

"The constant music with you," he continued. "You've got to fill the space with something, don't you? The natural assumption is that you would use it to fill dead air - because complete silence leaves us alone with our thoughts. But that's not entirely true, is it? You also use it because actually sitting down and having a conversation with someone makes you nervous, so you've got to soothe yourself somehow."

"You're way off," she said, irritated.

"It's not a criticism," he replied, laughing again. "I think most of us have trouble actually listening. It's all the hammering in our heads."

She looked up sharply. "You've got that too?"

"What?" he was perplexed by the question. "I was talking about the Garbage song."

"Right, right, of course. Hammering in My Head. Released in 1998 on the album 'Version 2.0'."

"That's the one, Shirley," he said, taking another absent sip of his drink. "You know all that off the top of your head?"

"Garbage is my favorite band," she said, defensively.

"So we're listening to that song then?"

"Oh we're definitely not listening to _ that _song," she said quickly, the thought of it being somewhat uncomfortable.

He sized her up. "You're funny."

"In what way?" she asked.

"You go back and forth on whether or not I'm an alien. You were so convinced it was me for a moment and then the moment I told you that I wasn't human you stopped believing me. And it's funny because the whole time I was convinced you were the alien."

"I'm an easy scapegoat," she shrugged.

"Nah, I wouldn't say that...but you do make a spectacular red herring."

She chuckled to herself. "Like from a Pup Named Scooby Doo?"

He smiled. "Now _ that _has to count as a dated reference."

"I like Scooby Doo, alright?" she was being defensive, but also warming to him a bit. "Alright, I'm gonna turn on some music whether you like it or not." She walked away from him and pulled a laptop from her bag.

"Oh go on, then," he waved, noncommittally. "Let's see what great throwbacks you've got this time. Actually, now that I think about it, do you mind if I have a turn at the jukebox? Seems to me that you've been in charge of the station long enough and someone else should have a turn DJing."

She hesitated, because she didn't enjoy the thought of letting someone else on her computer. "Fine," she finally acquiesced. "Fine, okay, just make it quick. And no making fun of me."

He took control of the laptop as she handed it over. He scrolled down the list of bands that she had stored up there, occasionally making an approving noise or two, until he found something that seemed to surprise him. "Really?" he asked. "Josie and the Pussycats? Like, the movie soundtrack?"

"I said no making fun of me," she said, trying to snatch the computer back. "Everyone always talks about how bad the movie is but they _ know _the soundtrack was killer. Now give it back, dummy!"

"Once again, I wasn't making fun of you," he replied, making his decision in the moment. "I think I've found the perfect song for you, though."

She sank back in her own seat, with a resigned sigh. "What is it, then?" she asked, as he clicked play.

"_ Well he looks at me with those Innocent eyes, _

_ And says it looks like you're wearing some kind of disguise, _

_ Because your hair sticks up, your shoes are untied, _

_ I hope that you got that shirt on half price-" _

He sat the laptop to the side and picked up his mug of butterbeer, taking another sip as he watched her reaction. Once again, she wasn't really having one outwardly, except looking annoyed. "You can't tell me that _ this _ one isn't a _ tiny _bit of a criticism," she finally said, before taking a sip of her own drink.

"Maybe a bit." He found it interesting how she seemed to be looking anywhere but at him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Only because it's too early in the song for this to be an excuse to belt out the chorus."

"Please don't take this as a criticism," he began, understanding by now the importance of prefacing everything by assuring her that she wasn't being made fun of. "But what _ is _the deal with all the retro stuff? The fashion, the music, the movies and show you talk about...I mean, you even have a Walkman instead of the iPod that everyone else of this era has. But then you definitely do have a laptop, and a cellphone...So what is it?"

"_ Please don't ignore me cause you know I adore you, _

_ But can't you just pretend to be nice?" _

"Maybe I just like all that stuff," she said, a little defensively. "Does it need to have a deeper meaning?"

"Not necessarily," he replied. "I just find it interesting."

"It's just a big, complicated question," she said, slowly. "There are a lot of elements. I do like modern things, you know."

"Nobody said you didn't."

"The Walkman's an easy answer, though." She took another sip of her drink. "I've had it since I was a kid. It's been through a lot with me. Also, iPods are a bit expensive." She was, against her own will, beginning to relax now. Little by little. The adrenaline from the fight was finally leaving her and she was beginning to feel a little sleepy.

"_ And I try so hard just to figure him out, _

_ But he won't tell me what he's thinking about, _

_ And then he falls asleep on the living room couch, _

_ With his sunglasses on and his tongue hanging out, _

_ And then he disappears for a week at a time, _

_ And then he shows up just like everything's fine, _

_ And I don't get what goes on in his mind, _

_ But I'm tired of hearing the same stupid lines-" _

"It's all a bit complicated with me, though," she continued, in a softer voice. "It's like...Nevermind, that sounds stupid."

"Nevermind was a critically acclaimed Nirvana album," the Doctor replied, yawning a bit but definitely paying very close attention. "It wasn't stupid and I'm sure what you've got to say won't be either."

"Well," she said slowly, clearly a bit uncomfortable with the honesty. "I hesitate to...call myself human. Don't want to be lumped in with this lot. I always knew something else was out there and always felt like I would...fit in better with it. I always felt like a bit of an alien. Like there's something weird and freakish about me and I don't really belong here. Like the Radiohead song says...I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo...But that's not even everything there is to it. Everything here feels so small, so suffocating. I've always wanted to travel, to see more of the world. Even as a kid I used to...this is silly...I used to want to get abducted by aliens, more than anything. Of course I gave up on that now. I wish sometimes I could just run away and have adventures. I feel kind of like, and this is the stupidest part, like I'm a time traveler. Everything I show outwardly - my interests, my aesthetic, even some of my ideals - were bred in the 90s, when I had no real knowledge of any of this important cultural stuff. I came into it later, as everyone else was moving away from it. I'm a time traveler from the past, stuck in time like amber, not moving forward. In the collective cultural past as well as in my own. I don't know, it's fucking weird. I'm not making sense."

"No, I think you're making perfect sense," the Doctor said, understanding things a bit more than he let on. "Especially because you're American, right?"

"What?" she said, suddenly feeling wide awake and defensive again.

"Oh don't get me wrong, the accent is perfectly done," he replied, with that infuriating smirk again. "Especially since you seem to have picked it up naturally instead of putting it on. But the phrases you use...you're definitely more American. You've probably been here a few years, based on my knowledge of accents. You know, it's part of why I assumed you were the alien. I thought you were doing a near perfect imitation of an Earth accent. I keep making that mistake lately." He saw the look on her face. "But I can drop it, if you like."

"That'd be in your best interest," she replied. Another brief silence fell between them.

"I won't ask you anything else about your past if you don't want me to," the Doctor finally said. "I don't need to know who you are or where you're from or any of it. But answer me this: What _ were _you doing on the stage tonight before I came in? Because that was, well, that was sort of stunning, actually. You should be up there performing instead of sitting in the wings."

"Me?" she scoffed. "No. Not anymore. Gotta keep my head down, y'know."

"But you really sit there all day letting those girls treat you like some lackey when you're so much better than they are!"

"Hey, now, don't say that," she sighed, exasperated. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly impressed by anyone in this particular cast, but I'm not better than they are. The mistake they always make is thinking they're better than me. If more people just would look around and realize that there is no reason for petty feuds or competition, my life would be so much easier. I'm not better than they are."

_ If anything, I'm worse, _she thought.

"It's not always like this, you know," she continued, more to herself than to anyone else. "I love being on the stage, but I do also love doing work behind the scenes. Typically, performers aren't this bad. Things are very simple working in this business. People come, they work together for a time, then they leave. No time for attachments or expectations. You move on to the next bunch."

"You do have friends here, though," the Doctor asked, sensing that they were moving into sensitive territory. "Or at least out there, in the real world."

"Not really," she admitted. "I tend to rub people the wrong way. Or at least annoy them. I'm a bit loud. I even turned down the opportunity to have a full tech team because I just prefer doing it all myself. At the end of the day, though, it doesn't matter. I don't need to venture out into the real world. I've never needed friends. Got my hobbies, my music...I spend an abnormal amount of time rewatching Dollhouse. And that's enough."

"Dollhouse?" he asked, trying to recall which one that was. "Wait, isn't that the one with the programmable people?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I know everyone else hated it, but it's kind of my favorite."

"Why do I get the feeling that you use stories as a substitute for genuine human interaction?"

"Stories are better than human interaction. They're simple. There is a structure. Life is a bit more chaotic and people don't say what they mean."

"People don't always say what they mean in stories either."

"Hey now, I'm just letting you crash here because you're in no fit state to be walking around. I can turn you out in a heartbeat if you start being sappy. I like story structure, yeah, but I'm not about to let myself get pulled along by some narrative. We're not friends or...anything else just because we faced the twelve foot mountain troll, alright?"

"You're defensive," he said, amused.

"I just see the way an audience would interpret this, is all. And I refuse to play that game. This isn't shippable. We're not being tricked into anything by heightened emotions from circumstances. We're strangers, and you're gonna leave tomorrow and we'll never see each other again. That's the deal."

"Right, right," he agreed. "That's the deal."

“Just letting you know that this isn’t something to want. It’s like Devil Doll says in one of the songs I actually _ can _ pull off: _ I’m as cold as November... _Why...are you looking at me like that?"

"It's just...you remind me a lot of...well, me, actually. A much younger me. A me that I'm starting to think was actually right the whole time."

She rolled her eyes. "You can't be much older than I am!"

"You'd be surprised," he said, with a grin. Then the song changed and he chuckled a bit to himself. "I like this one. Bit random having Regina Spektor come on right after Josie, isn't it?"

"I keep my iTunes on shuffle so I never get sick of anything," she said, not being able to conceal how amusing she found it that this song was on at this moment.

"You know, I am an alien," he said to her, slowly. "Not a dangerous one, but an alien."

"Come off it-"

"No it's true! And I travel the universe in a space ship that's also a time machine."

"Sure you do-"

"What I'm trying to say is that...I've been traveling for a long time and I've picked up lots of friends along the way. But I keep...corrupting them. Bad things keep happening and when they get through it...They've changed. And it's my fault. So I've started traveling alone. Figured it was better that way. But now...meeting you, here...there's a part of me that is just...bothered by you."

"Gee, thanks, I'm bothered by you too."

"Not what I'm trying to say. You're just talking about how you always wanted to be abducted by aliens-"

"Wanted being the operative word. Wanted. I don't want things anymore. Wanting and wishing is for children."

"And what did you wish for when you were a child?"

"To do stuff like this. I was always terrified that this was all there is. Just this little planet, nothing else to discover."

"Why did that frighten you?"

"Can you imagine how boring that would be?"

"See, that's the kind of thing that, before, I would've just beamed you up instantly. Shown you the wonders of the universe. But I can't do that. I can't have you getting corrupted."

"See, that's the thing about me, Doctor...I'm incorruptible. Nobody can corrupt me, not worse than I already have."

"You're running from something too." He said this as a flat statement, sensing a kindred spirit in this way. "I could just give you a lift. Get you far away from whatever it is you're looking for."

She was hardly breathing. "You're drunk," she said. "Let's see how you feel about it in the morning. But if you do turn out to actually have a spaceship...Well, I call shotgun."

He smiled at her and leaned back on the sofa, singing along to the song that was on. _ "Maybe if I sober up I will stop pretending that love is forever..." _

She watched him, thinking that she'd never in her life met a sadder person. Except of course herself.

_ "Love will be the death of me _

_ Love is so fickle _

_ It starts with a flood _

_ And it ends with a trickle..." _


	5. Not My Idea

(Chapter art by [Meribor](https://seems-like-a-good-idea.tumblr.com/))

**August 19th**

The Doctor woke up first the next morning, memories of the previous night flooding back all at once. He glanced over at the redhead who was fast asleep on a nearby beanbag chair, having fallen asleep with headphones on and Discman in hand. He took out his sonic screwdriver and gave her a quick scan, feeling almost invasive for doing so. But he had to be sure.

_ Completely 100% human. She'd be so disappointed. _

He slipped out and returned to the TARDIS. He stood up at the controls wondering where he should go next, feeling suddenly very lonely. There was a part of him that wanted to return to Sarah Jane and make sure Alex was doing alright. Another part of him wanted to go back for the redheaded stranger - he had the feeling that she was running from something big and he wanted to make sure she could do that.

_ No, _ he said to himself. _ Bad ideas. You can't do that to more people. They're both so damaged already, they're better off without you. _

So he was surprised when a phone started ringing.

He started combing the place trying to find where the ringtone was coming from. He finally unearthed a little black flip phone that had fallen through the floor.

"How did this get in here?" he said, aloud. He peered at the caller ID and saw that it said 'Sky' on it. Remembering that this was the name of Sarah Jane's new daughter, he answered it.

"Hello? If you say 'are you my mummy', I'm hanging up."

"Hello?" a familiar voice said on the other end, surprising him. "Yeah, sorry, I've just lost my phone, mate, can you tell me where it got to so I can go pick it up? Are you one of them alien dentists because I'll fight you if I have to."

"Alex," the Doctor said. "This is your phone?"

Now Alex was surprised. "Doctor? What are you doing with my phone?"

That's when he figured out what must've happened. "You were in a state last night when I brought you back here, you must've dropped it."

"Well don't keep stalling, bring it back! I know you've got time!"

"Yeah, alright, don't rush me, I'll be there." He hung up the phone.

He walked slowly back up to the control room, debating whether or not it was a good idea to go back there. He couldn't risk bringing any of his drama onto these 15 year old kids. But then something else occurred to him.

...

The Doctor returned to the theatre to find the redhead sitting center stage, dressed once again in her characteristic leather jacket with a concert tee and jeans. She was completely alone and her sound system was playing a familiar song.

_ "I bit my tongue and stood in line _

_ With not much to believe in _

_ I bought into what I was sold _

_ And ended up with nothing _

_ This is not my idea of of a good time..." _

"I can't believe you're still listening to that Garbage."

The Doctor crossed to sit next to her, their feet both dangling from the edge of the stage. She didn't quite look at him yet.

"Is that a smile?" he asked, turning his full body towards her. "You're actually capable of a smile?" He couldn't be sure, but he had a vague recollection of her smiling at something he'd said the night before. He had just been too plastered to know if it had really happened or not. These were still pale ghosts of smiles - there was some hesitation to them, some apprehension. They weren't at all like the look she'd gotten on her face when she'd been singing and thought she was alone. He couldn't quite explain it to himself, but he wanted to try to make her smile like that again. Uninhibited. Free.

"Don't get used to it," she replied, still doing her best to repress the automatic reaction to his joke. Her smile faded just a bit. "What are you doing back here? Thought you'd shoved off."

"I had, but then I thought I should come back."

"Why?"

"You remind me of someone, a bit. And not me this time. I want to find a way to help you both."

"Yeah that's not my scene. Don't play well with others."

"You know, I picked up a copy of your playbill," he said, pulling it out of his pocket. "The lighting and sound tech isn't even listed on it. So I've got a serious question for you...Are you...a ghost? Did you die in the 90s and just get stuck here?"

She knew he was teasing and decided to give it right back to him. She turned her whole body towards him, tucking her legs underneath her as she laughed in disbelief. "Oh my god. You figured it out! Now I am free of this mortal coil and can go into the light!" She pulled a clicker out of her pocket and pressed a button, and suddenly a spotlight was shining directly on them. "No but seriously, you have no idea how funny it is that you said that."

He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. "So what is it really then?"

She shrugged. "I requested to be left off the playbill. For...personal reasons."

"I still want something to call you," the Doctor said. "It doesn't have to be your real name, just make up something and I'll go along with it."

"What did you have in mind?"

"How about...Lorina Dodson? Or is that too obscure?"

"How dare you accuse me of not knowing my favorite Spiderman villain!"

He was amused and impressed at how she immediately understood that reference. "So not that then? How about…" he began, looking her over. "Scarlet?"

She laughed. "Why Scarlet?"

"It's the hair again, sorry," he admitted. "It's rather a striking feature."

"No I don't think I'm a Scarlet," she replied with some amusement. "I mean, I always play Miss Scarlet when I play Clue, but...I always identified a bit more with Mrs White in the movie."

"You did?" he asked, amused.

"I always identify with Madeline Kahn. But maybe you're on to something." She pointed to the t-shirt she was wearing. "You know what this is?"

He peered at the black shirt with the big 'G' on it. "That's a Garbage concert shirt, isn't it?" he asked, wondering where she was going with this. "Not Your Kind of People tour, right?"

"Right," she replied, evidently satisfied with his answer. "Only concert I've ever been to. Greatest night of my life. Caught them at Troxy just after...Well, let's just say they gave me back my will to live even if just for a moment. I'd just moved to London not even a year earlier and after that I stopped just scraping by in that expensive motel I was staying in and got the job here. You know they're releasing a 20th anniversary version of their debut this year? Got it pre-ordered. Gonna go see them in Manchester when they get here in a few months."

"So...We're calling you Shirley then?" he answered, tentatively.

"No, I can't carve an identity by trying to become someone else's," she said, rolling her eyes. "But what about Ginger? That should fill your need to call me based on my hair color and the shirt could be 'G' for Garbage as well as 'G' for Ginger. Oh and also...think of the puns!"

"You're not really ginger, though, are you?" he started. "I mean, your hair isn't orange and you don't have freckles."

"Irrelevant to the point," she dismissed this all with a wave of her hand. "So what do you think, Doctor? Am I Ginger?"

He paused, looking her over. "Alright, then," he said, with a grin. "You're Ginger." A slow grin spread over his face. "You know, I always wanted to be ginger."

"It's all so very spy-fi," Ginger said, satisfied. "These code names."

"Alright, so I have to admit something else to you, now that we've got that settled," the Doctor began, moving on. "That thing you said last night, about being a time traveler...Well, I actually am one. I'm a time traveling alien. I have my own ship and everything. If you really want to get away for a bit, see alien planets or times past, then you could come with me! Have an adventure! You don't have to be trapped on this boring planet anymore. Because this isn't all there is. There is so much out there to discover. What do you say, Ginger?"

She was sorely tempted, she had to admit. "If this is some kind of weird trick to get me to come back to yours, I've got to say that it's the lamest pickup line I've ever heard."

"It's a purely platonic offer, I assure you," he grinned. "Come on, I know this can't be your idea of a good time. So what of it, then? Do you wanna be a real time traveler?"

She hesitated, thinking it over. "No. Sorry, I've only just barely met you and I'm...I'm not there yet. Not ready to just pack it all up and go backpacking across space-time with a relative stranger. Can't believe I'm saying this but...think I might need to keep my feet on the ground."

"Oh," he said, disappointed. If he admitted it to himself, it wasn't just disappointment that he was feeling. He had the sudden flashback to the first time he met Donna and she'd turned him down as well. The guilt he felt about everything that had just happened resurfaced for the first time since he'd met this girl, and he couldn't help but feel lonely all over again. "Actually, yeah, that's good. Very smart of you, honestly. I shouldn't've even...Yeah. I'll just be off, then? You might see me again, though. Or not..."

He jumped off the stage, and started walking away towards the outside door when he seemed to remember something. "Oh, I almost forgot!" he shouted, turning back to her and rummaging in his pockets. "I went out and got you a little something!"

"Oh I'm not...comfortable taking gifts-" she began.

"Nonsense, this really wasn't any trouble and I think you could use it." He handed her a tiny blue metal square with a white Apple logo on it.

"You got me an iPod?" she began, knowing what it was even though she'd never had one.

"Yeah, just in case you need to incapacitate any more Grackenvites, it'll be much faster than keying up a DCP-50," he teased. "You're not going to understand the joke yet, but might I suggest that you call it 'TARDIS'?" He grinned at his own brilliance and turned to walk away before she could think of a reason to give it back.

"Hey, Doctor?" Ginger said tentatively, jumping from the stage as well just as he was about to reach the outside door.

"Yes?" Her tone had stopped him in his tracks.

"Are you ever going to tell me how you ended up here last night? I mean it was such convenient timing that I suspected you might be the alien. So if you weren't...then what were you doing here? It wasn't to see this show."

He thought it over for a moment, deciding he had no reason not to tell her the truth. "I was tracking it here. I didn't know what species it was. I've got this sort of...nemesis, I guess you'd call it."

"I most certainly wouldn't-"

"Anyway, he's been causing trouble and I thought that I could find him by finding members of his brigade. So far I've been wrong at every turn. I just can't for the life of me figure why the Trickster's greatest weapon would be a Grackenvite...but nevermind that. I was given a riddle to solve and it told me to come to Camden on 3 days past the Ides of August."

She nodded. "That would be the 18th...yeah, that checks out."

He smiled. "A modern human girl knows all about the Roman calendar? Oh I forgot where we are for a moment - it's because of Shakespeare, right?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, that...and I learned all about Roman history and mythology when I was studying Latin."

"You don't speak Latin!" he exclaimed, amused and surprised.

"You gonna stop telling me what I can and can't do at any point?"

"I'm just...that's such an odd language to learn."

She shrugged. "Been hoping it would come in handy someday. But that day won't be today. Not gonna go hopping back in a time machine with some stranger, alright? Now why don't you get going? Gotta get back to work before rehearsal."


	6. 3rd Planet

(Chapter art by [Meribor)](https://seems-like-a-good-idea.tumblr.com/)

The Doctor was mentally kicking himself when he returned to the TARDIS.

_ That was stupid. Of course she wasn't going to go. Why did you even offer? It's not like you even like her that much most of the time. _

He was still dead-set on not getting any more companions. That just didn't seem like a good idea.

_ I should just leave well enough alone. Avoid people altogether. But how many times have I said that? How many companions? 900 years and I still haven't learned my lesson. In the end they all end up suffering because I can't stand to be alone. _

He'd promised to return Alex's phone. Was it really worth it? One cell phone and one broken promise. Just another adult who let her down. 

What was so different about this girl? There was something he could feel coming from her, several somethings, calling out from the depths of her enigmatic eyes. _ No, several someones _ . A stained-glass soul made up of so many familiar others. So many beautiful facets of people he loved. _ 'I'm older than I look' _. 

"You really are, aren't you?" he said aloud as he fidgeted with the phone. It was a sense he got from her, that though the statement had been an obvious bluff it had a ring of truth to it. She’d been robbed of a childhood, same as him. 

Funny that he was getting the same feeling from this even newer stranger, this one calling herself Ginger. But that was different - something in her eyes was darker, defeatist and broken. 

_ If I have anything to say about it, Alex will never have that look in her eyes. _

He set a course for Ealing, 2013.

...

When Alex Mitchell woke up the next morning it was to the smell of pancakes. She had slept in the same clothes from the night before, the ones Sky had leant to her. She looked around, eyes landing on a neatly folded pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. She knew Sky must’ve left them out for her and felt guilty about all the secrets she was keeping from her friend. Then again, she knew Sky and Sarah Jane were keeping secrets of their own. She dressed and walked downstairs, stopping half way.

"I can't believe they would just do something like that-"

"Luke, hush, you'll wake her up-"

It was always this way. She had developed a sixth sense for knowing when people were talking about her just out of her ear shot. It happened at Torchwood all the time and later with her would-be adopted parents.

"But Rani, it's not okay that they would just abandon her like this-" Luke began again.

"Shh!" Rani had a sixth sense of her own.

"We know, mate, but what are you going to do about it?" Clyde said loud enough to earn a kick under the table. "Okay, Rani!"

Luke continued pacing, too livid to be quieted. "I'll march down there, Clyde, and give them a piece of my mind-"

"Oh, but you have such a lovely mind, Luke," Alex said, leaning against the doorway and trying to seem like she wasn't suddenly feeling tearful. "Would be a shame to waste even a bit of it on them."

Luke came to a dead halt. Sarah Jane and Sky had been making breakfast, but froze as well, with the exception of giving one another a look of distress . 

There was a scraping of chairs as Rani got to her feet. "Alex. You're awake. Did we-"

"No, no, I just smelled eggs and came down," Alex answered,nonchalantly.

"Good, good," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Bit groggy, actually."

"I expect getting a spot of food in you will clear that right up," Sarah Jane smiled at her.

"I expect it will," Alex smiled back at her. She looked at the others. "If you don't mind, I'd like to, ah...just not talk about it through breakfast, alright? I'll fill you in later, but breakfast isn't the time."

"I quite agree," Sarah Jane said. "Breakfast is a sanctuary meal. Anyone who dilutes it with serious business is no friend of mine."

"Do you smell something burning?" Alex asked.

"Oh that'll be the toast," Sky despaired. "I can't quite get the temperature right-"

Alex smiled, amused. "Y'know, sometimes I forget how very young you are, Sky."

"I'm only a year younger than you are!" Sky protested.

"Sky, do we really have to keep up that lie now that Alex is in the loop about the aliens," said Clyde. He got up out of his chair and walked over to Alex, stage whispering: "She was only technically born in 2011."

Alex laughed. "What?"

"Clyde!" Sky protested.

"How's that work then? She's a toddler?"

"It's actually a rather long story…" Sarah Jane began.

…

As the gang cleared up after breakfast and chattered away happily, Alex felt a need to address something with Luke. "Didn't know you were all coming back today," she started.

"I wanted to see you," Luke admitted. "Mum told me what happened. Wanted to make sure you're holding up."

"I'm always holding up, you know me." She tried to joke, but her usual attitude wouldn't come. She sighed. "I won't be here long, promise. I don't want to be a burden on Miss Smith-"

"You won't be a burden, Alex," Luke said.

"I always am, always have been, a bit-"

"Is that what they told you?" Luke was looking at her seriously now. "Alex, listen to me, whatever they've said it isn't true." He took her hands. "You're not a burden, you never were," he said with sincerity "And Mum loves you being here - and it's easier now that she doesn't have to hide all the alien stuff from you. She told me that."

Alex couldn't explain how hearing that made her feel so happy and at ease. "She did?"

Luke nodded and smiled. "She did. You've got to understand," he chuckled, "This is what Sarah Jane Smith _ does _. She sort of...takes in... strays. I'm 19, I'm independent now. Sky still has growing up to do and I know that she wants to help you, too." He chuckled again. "She's Sarah Jane! She can't help but want to help you."

…

After they'd cleared up the remnants of breakfast, Sarah Jane took everyone up to the attic.

"I'm sorry we kept this all from you," she said, as they climbed the stairs. "Sky was so happy to have a friend and we all liked you, of course.... It's just we-"

"Wanted to give me a chance at a normal life?" Alex asked, raising her eyebrows. "Heard that one before. But…" She bit her lip. "I suppose I wasn't honest about everything with you, either. I thought you were all nice, normal people. But it’s nice,not having to hide a big part of my life anymore."

The door to the attic opened, and this time Alex could take her time drinking it all in.

"It looks different," she said turning to the others. "Without that blue box in the middle of it. Cozier."

"So, you really got to travel with the Doctor?" Luke asked, enviously. "Mum never let us do that."

"It was far too dangerous," Sarah Jane reminded him. "And you were still grounded by the Judoon."

"Grounded by the-" Alex began, instantly fascinated. "Oh you've got to tell me all about this,” she said hungrily. "I've...never been able to talk to people my own age about aliens before."

…

The teenagers all played Uno on the floor of the attic, while Sarah Jane went downstairs for a bit. Alex listened eagerly to her Bannerman Road friends tell their favorite adventures with Sarah Jane. They listened in turn to Alex's stories of her fantastical time at Torchwood. Coexisting with the happy ones, sad memories surfaced as well. She wasn't ready to share those yet.

"I'm still not over the little tin dog, to be honest," Alex said, shaking her head. "I mean we had a pterodactyl when I was growing up, but-"

"I'm sorry, you had a what?" Clyde asked. He put down his card (a yellow 0).

"Shhh shh, I need to concentrate on my hand," she said, looking down at her own cards attentively. She gave the matter some thought and put down a yellow 9.

Rani's turn came next. She glanced at Sky next to her, who very obviously was down to her last two cards and made a snap decision. "I'm playing a Reverse Card!" she announced, slapping it down.

"Ayyyyy," Alex joked. "Just like my new parents did!" She awkwardly finger-gunned each of them before getting quiet and avoiding everyone's gaze.

The others exchanged awkward looks.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Rani asked her, rubbing Alex’s arm, attempting to comfort her. "You don't have to talk about what happened if you're not ready but...if you wanted to…"

"A disrupt," she said laconically, still choosing to avoid eye contact. "That's what they call it. I've seen it happen. Kids come back. But that's normally after years. They hit puberty and get angry about stuff that happened before, start causing problems." She looked up at her friends, eyes welling up. "But I didn't do that!" Alex insisted, her voice cracking pitifully. "I swear! I- I- I shared the controllers, I- I played whatever James wanted. I tried really, really hard to keep up on the bikes, I swear I did!" Her voice began to trail off. "I didn't..."

"We know, Alex, we know," Rani said, softly. She wrapped her arms around Alex, just holding her.

Rani's hug grounded Alex some. She closed her eyes and her tears broke the dam. "I don't even know what it is that I did, y'know? That's the worst part. I thought it was fine." She sighed. "Bit awkward, maybe, but it always is, and...they just... Changed. Overnight. And...well, y'know, when people change they change their minds so...That's what they did. It had to have been something I did. They had all this...time to get to know me before they went through with the adoption, y'know?" She looked up. "They wanted me until they actually had me then...I wasn't what they expected, I guess. The reality of me isn't as good as the image of the daughter they wanted." She scrunched up her face and looked down again. "Maybe if I'd tried harder-"

"Some people have expectations that can't be met, no matter what you do," Luke said. "That's not your fault; that's on them ."

Alex looked up at him then, eyes shining with tears. "I thought it was going to be my forever home. It took so long for me to actually believe that after...what happened last time but...I did. Just for a moment. I thought it was my forever home," she repeated. “And then immediately the next day something felt off about things and...it was just over." The indignation in her voice returned. "I let myself believe it like, like a stupid little kid! I thought it was gonna be my forever home, Luke." She sobbed. Her words became muffled. "I thought it was going to be my forever home…"

And suddenly they were all piling on Alex, together winding into a group hug. She accepted the hug gratefully - it felt warm and safe, like the collective pressure of her friends squeezing her was enough to drive out the sadness. There was a moment when they all cried together; none of them could find their words.

"'S'alright, Al," Clyde spoke first, using that pet-name that only he and Rani were allowed to call her. "Screw all of them, right? They don't know what they're missing." He gave Alex an extra pat on her head.

It wasn't enough. "Nobody ever misses me," Alex sobbed. "They just go away and I have to be the one to do the missing." Clyde felt helpless for his friend. 

"_ We _ missed you, Alex," Sky said. "I missed you."

Alex accepted the hug for a few seconds more. "Alright, okay, that's enough now." She pushed them all off. "I can't..." she out her arms in front of her, waving her hands defensively. "I can't handle all of this right now it's...wow it's a bit much." She chuckled politely. 

"Alright, we'll back off," Clyde said amenably. "Whatever you want."

"It was your turn anyway, Al," Rani said, playfully. "So what's it gonna be?"

"Right, right, don't rush me," Alex said. She cleared her throat, as if to clean her emotional slate. She started picking up her cards from where they landed in all the commotion. She peered at them for a moment, the decision suddenly becoming clear. She slapped her card down on the table. "Wild Card."

"Just like you, eh Alex?" Luke teased. "You were always a bit of a Wild Card."

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, amused.

“He’s right,” said Sky playfully. “Never could predict what you were going to do next." Sky patted Alex's arm, sending that her touch was welcomed again. "Alex Mitchell, the most contradictory person in the world. Oscillating between having no faith in herself and then the next second impersonating Torchwood on a mission with the Doctor!” She said this last part almost enviously. “You really are a Wild Card.”

Alex fought the urge to roll her eyes and smiled softly to herself instead. "It’s not that deep, really. I was getting sick of all this yellow."

"So y'gonna pick a color then?" asked Rani.

She nodded slowly and looked down at the card.

"What'll it be, Wild Card?" asked Clyde.

She took a deep breath and slowly looked up at her friends.

"Blue."

...

Around teatime, there came a knock on the door.

"Took you long enough-" Sarah Jane said, opening the door. She stopped herself short.

"Sarah Jane Smith," Jack Harkness grinned. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!"

"Captain," Sarah Jane blinked, taken completely off guard by the unexpected, ebullient immortal. "What're you…"

"Can I come in?" Jack asked, somewhat seriously.

"Yeah, of course, come in, come in…" she waved him inside.

He walked in and looked around. "Nice place you got here. Cozy. Safe."

She ignored his attempt at small talk."It's been a long time, Captain. I wasn't expecting you." She said pointedly but with a smile.

"You weren't?" He swiveled to face her, eyebrows raised. "I told Alex I was on my way."

"Alex? Oh.. Well now she did say she spoke with you," she said, then laughed derisively. "Do you know she actually claimed she's with Torchwood…" She stopped and her brow furrowed. "She's not _ actually _ with Torchwood, is she?"

"No, not exactly," Jack said.

Sarah Jane knew there was more to his answer. "Why didn't you phone ahead, let me know you were coming?"

"I... thought about it," he started. "But then I was on a plane and they said no cell-phones! And anyway I couldn't remember what time it was here and didn't want to wake you-"

"And you just had to make an entrance," a voice said.

They both turned towards the door that led out to the hall to see Alex standing there, leaning awkwardly against the frame as if trying to seem casual but failing miserably.

"Hiya, Captain," she said, with a sassy salute. "Been a long time."

"Two years," he said, feeling very guilty about that fact.

"Progress report?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He shrugged. "Slow-go. What about on your end? Mission status?"

"That's classified."

"I'm your superior officer."

"Prove it. Tell me the password."

Jack chuckled. "Surprised you still remember that."

"We live in a world of shapeshifters, clones, and mind-jackers. Of course I'd remember the password, its vital. It's what you trained me for."

"Do I really have to-"

"The password, Captain Harkness. If you are who you say you are."

He looked at her steadily for a moment. "Myfanwy."

She seemed satisfied with this answer and crossed the room to shake his hand. "Good to see you again, Captain. And as far as the mission status - it's a total failure."

"Gone rogue again, have you, Podling?" His voice only half kidding.

She smiled, wryly. "You know I can't follow orders."

"Well in your defense, my orders are often stupid and incomprehensible."

She actually smiled then and the two of them hugged.

"I missed you, Uncle Jack," she said.

"I missed you too, kiddo," he replied.

…

The three of them sat around after tea. "I don't know how I feel about hanging around the Doctor," Jack said.

"I'm not 'hanging round' with him," Alex replied. "He's shoved off. Prob'ly not even gonna bring me my phone back like I told him to."

"Still, it's dangerous, the life he leads," Jack said. He took her hands in his, no longer kidding. The reason I sent you to England in the first place is because this kind of life is entirely too dangerous."

"You know I'm not some regular kid," Alex sulked. "You did train me to take care of myself," she countered.

"I wanted you to be _ able _ to protect yourself," Jack reminded her. "But I didn't want you to _ have _ to protect yourself."

There was a brief silence. "It's an awful lot of coincidence, isn't it?" Sarah Jane asked. "Her getting to meet all of us. The Doctor said something similar."

Jack let go of Alex's hands and leaned back in his seat. "It does worry me a bit," Jack admitted. "This whole situation does. I mean, Alex, you're 15 now. You need to have safety and stability."

"I could offer that," Sarah Jane interjected. She looked at Jack and then at Alex. "If you want it, Alex, you can stay here." She leaned toward the girl. 

Alex flashed look at Jack and then focused, feeling unworthy. _ 'It always starts this way,' _ she thought to herself. ' _ Another chance to be rejected.' _ This time, with Sarah Jane, it could be different. But then she thought that before _ . 'Try, try again.' _ She remembered her manners and looked up at Sarah Jane. "I'd appreciate that, Miss Smith, if you don't mind?" Alex asked.

"Please, call me Sarah Jane-"

"I promise I won't overstay though. I don't wanna be a burden or nothin'. I just need time to...figure out where to go next. I mean I'm practically an adult anyway. Can basically take care of myself."

Sarah Jane felt a sudden wave of sorrow for this girl, at how many grown up decisions she felt she had to make. She decided, for the moment, that it was best for her to not say what she'd been about to say before Alex had interrupted.

"You can stay here as long as you like," Sarah Jane stressed. "You're 15. You can't move out on your own yet, not legally. If you still want to get emancipated from the state at 16, that's your decision. But either way, you're welcome in my home."

"I'd support it," Jack said. "If you wanted to move in here. I can pull some strings to make that happen."

"You can?" The girl said with hope. 

"You seem determined to seek out this life-style, for as much as we try to keep you out of it. At least it _ seems _ safer here for you. And Sarah Jane can keep an eye on you better than some strangers I don't know. Honestly, I never liked leaving you in those group homes. I just didn't know what else to do."

"Yeah, I understand. " Alex said, suddenly feeling a bit better. "Yeah, I think that's what I'll do. I'll move in here." A thought popped into her head and she looked up at them. "You never did tell me...how do the two of you know each other? And how in the world do you know the Doctor, Jack?"

They both chuckled.

"Bit of a long story," Jack said.

"Isn't it always?" Sarah Jane laughed. 

Alex made a face. "Never mind, I don't wanna know."

Jack chuckled in disbelief. "Alright, what's that face for?"

"I said not to tell me. You and the Doctor it's none of my business," she shrugged awkwardly. 

"Alex-"

"I mean, you said before that you guys go a long way back..." Alex said, looking mighty uncomfortable. "I wouldn't think anything of it, except that I'm not an innocent little kid anymore. I'm a teenager. I _ know _ stuff."

"Stuff like what?" Jack pushed. "What is it you think you know?"

"Come on, I know being all vague about how you know someone is just Jack-speak for you totally boned him."

Jack really laughed this time. "_ Boned _him? You say 'boned' now? I mean, normally you'd be right about that. But it wasn't like that. Not with the Doctor." He turned to the side and added. "Not that I would've said no if he'd asked-"

Alex squeezed her eyes shut and waved her hand as if shooing a fly away. "Please don't say any more about this."

… 

The Doctor knocked on Sarah Jane's door and it almost immediately swing open.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming," Sarah Jane smiled.

"Sorry," he said with his upper body contorted to see in but his feet remaining securely outside. "Got the dates a bit wrong," he apologized.

"You do that sometimes," she replied. "Are you coming in?"

"I probably shouldn't." He said, maintaining his stance. He pulled Alex's phone out of his pocket. "I just came to drop this off."

Sarah Jane just looked at him for a moment before making a calculated decision. "Nonsense. You're coming in for a cuppa, then you can give it to her yourself before you leave."

The Doctor thought about protesting again, but decided it wouldn't do any good when Sarah Jane took him by the wrist and pulled him the rest of the way inside. He put the phone back in his pocket. "I really shouldn't stay long-"

"Not surprising," an American voice said. "You've never been one to linger."

"Captain Jack!" the Doctor said, mildly surprised. He instinctively opened his arms wide and the two of them hugged. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Evidently my niece forgot to mention my trip to anyone," the Captain explained. 

"Your...niece?" Then he remembered. "Oh right...Alex did mention something about that," his voice trailed off as he extended his neck and rubbed under his chin thoughtfully.

"At least she mentioned me to someone," Jack teased. "I was a bit hurt that Sarah Jane hadn't known the relation."

"More like your ego was shot when you found out that you're not always the top of everyone's conversation list," Alex said, entering the room. She looked at the Doctor coolly and extended a hand. "I'd like my mobile back please."

"Alright, that was the deal," the Doctor said. He placed the phone in her hand. He thought that he'd really like to ask her how she was holding up, but again thought better of it. It may be best not to raise the child's expectations. It wasn't like he'd be sticking around. "I guess I should be going then. Got our business out of the way." He waved his fingers back and forth between himself and the phone.

"Whatever," she replied, neutrally. She waved a hand in the air, dropped her head and began checking her messages as she left the room.

"She _ is _ a teenager, isn't she?" the Doctor laughed in spite of himself. "Good to see her finally acting like one after all."

"I intend to finally let her be a child," Sarah Jane replied. "It's the least I can do for her."

"Sarah Jane has agreed to become her legal guardian," Jack explained. "I think this could be the best place for her. God knows she needs some stability."

Stability. There was that word again. Something she’d never be able to have if he stuck around.

"I agree," the Doctor said. "This could be just what she needs."

"I did have some concerns," Jack said. "About her hanging around with you." He Looked at the doctor pointedly. "I sent her away from Cardiff almost five years ago for this very reason. Your life is far too dangerous."

"She's not hanging around with me," the Doctor said, dryly. "If she's very lucky, this'll be the last time she ever sees me. I wouldn't be a good influence."

"I think you're both wrong to leave her," Sarah Jane said, crossing her arms. "I think it's incredibly selfish of both of you."

Jack was startled by the severity of her words, but the Doctor knew her well enough to not be surprised. 

"You're her uncle," Sarah Jane said, turning to Jack. "Maybe not by blood, but you are family. She clearly cares about you and looks up to you. And you, Doctor…" she sighed. "She hardly knows you, yes, but I have never seen her open up that way to anyone. She doesn't need to have both of you walking out on her, quitting on her like so many others have before. She needs present, active role models."

Jack tried to tease. "I know I have model-quality good looks, but being a role model? You really see me doing that?"

Sarah Jane gave him a warning look; she wasn't kidding. Not About this.

"I can't be that for her," the Doctor said, withdrawing more at the mere suggestion. "I'm not...something to aspire to be." He waved his hands dismissively. "She'd do well with you, Sarah Jane. You're someone worthy of looking up to. I know you are."

"Hard to do when you're so much taller than her-" Jack tried to lighten the mood again.

"I think you're both wrong about this," Sarah Jane cut him off, stubbornly. "I knew she'd been through some things, but...I think it's easy to forget sometimes that there are catastrophic losses even outside of our own circle when things happen. Alex was impacted on the day of the invasion-"

"You think I don't know that?" Jack said, eyes flashing dangerously. His chair squeaked when he rose; his vehemence filled the room. "You think my first thought when the Daleks landed wasn't whether she was safe? Wondering if I'd made a mistake sending her out to London with a bunch of civilians? But everything was happening so fast and I knew there was nothing I could do for her unless I could find a way to stop what was happening."

Jack looked into the faces of his friends. He knew Sarah Jane wasn't trying to attack him. The Doctor knew all about regret. His own resentment was greater than anyone else's.

Jack put his hands on the back his chair and hung his head. "You don't know what that was like. As soon as I could get away, I found a way back to where her adoptive family was and...she wasn't there. There was nothing, just rubble and a few bodies. I was...terrified that one of them was hers.”

The Doctor maintained his stoicism on the outside. He saw the echoes of panic in Jack's eyes. It was all too familiar.

Jack slowly found his words. "I recognized her light up sneakers in the debris. When I finally found her she was so...distraught. She didn't understand death properly yet. Suppose that was our fault; she'd been around me for too long. She'd seen that I couldn't die and couldn't appreciate the finality of it for others. I had to explain to her that they weren't coming back - that I'm not normal.

"That must've been awful, for the both of you," Sarah Jane empathized .

Jack looked up. "She didn't speak for a day." He chuckled in a helpless way. The tone of his voice shifted to a sense of resignation. "So I cleaned her up and made the only decision I could. I sent her back into care. I’d done that for her already after...after what happened to Owen.” He chuckled darkly. “That was a wake-up call. But that was what made me know for sure that she needed to have as little to do with me as possible. She couldn’t get caught up in this again. She was ten years old, Doctor." He looked at the Doctor. "This life is too dangerous for her. I made the decision to let her go for her own good. As much as it hurts me the safest thing for her is for me to stay away.”

"I still think it's an excuse," Sarah Jane said. "Both of you just...don't like to be in one place." She punctuated her accusations by hammering the table with her hand in a chopping motion "You're both addicted to danger! You can't get enough. If you had to sit still and commit to something, it would drive you mad!"

The Doctor thought of so many things you could say in return but this conversation had already gone too long and waxed too emotional. "Maybe so," he conceded. "But I agree with Jack on this one. You're her best chance at a normal life. Well," he said, swinging his head to the side, "The Bannerman Road definition of normal," he mused. "But seriously, what can we possibly offer Alex?"

"More than just a lost phone, that's for sure," Sarah Jane said, coolly.

"I've got another flight out in the morning," Jack said, as if this settled the matter. "I'm in the middle of something in America right now. I'll be back when I can. Alex understands that. " He turned to the Doctor. "And you're not sticking around, right?"

"Right," the Doctor said pushing himself up with his hands on the table. "I was just leaving."

"You're fond of her," Sarah Jane appealed to the Doctor one last time. "Don't pretend that you're not. Doctor, from Alex's perspective, everyone she's ever cared about has left her at some point. She's got a thick skin now to protect herself from feeling that loss, but it's not enough. She was just thrown out by a family that was meant to be adopting her. I'm asking you to just...imagine what it's like to be a lonely child and feeling abandoned by everyone who's ever said they cared about you."

This resonated deeply within the Doctor. Again, so much he could say. This time she hit too close to home. He tried hard not to show it.

"I'll make you a compromise, Sarah Jane," he said. "I'll come back every so often like Jack does - but only when I know it's safe to do so. Under no circumstances will Alex be allowed back in the TARDIS and there will be no involving her with my lifestyle." He waved his hands as he spoke, to lend levity to his proposal. "I'll come 'round for tea and maybe help her with her coursework, but nothing more than that." He hit the table with a pointed finger. "I don't want her getting...attached to me. Or used to the idea of me being around. Agreed?"

"I can live with that for now," Sarah Jane said. "Do you agree to the terms, Captain Jack?"

"I don't like them," he looked between the two of them,"but I'll agree to them."

…

Alex was enrolled in school in the fall, and one day in mid-September she returned home to find the Doctor waiting. The Doctor and Alex were rather neutral to each other - both trying to keep their emotional distance - but Sarah Jane was confident that she'd done the right thing here.

"See I just don't understand maths, like none of it makes any sense," Alex would despair when doing her coursework.

"It's just like a puzzle," the Doctor said. "You've got to think of it like a mystery you're trying to solve."

"It's a boring mystery then," Alex sighed, frustrated. She threw down her pen and put her face in her hands. "Maybe I'm just too stupid to get it."

"No, you just need to remove expectations from it and look at it logically…" She looked up sharply at him. "What?"

"Not to be that feminist, Doctor, but please don't ever tell me to look at things logically."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean it like-"

"I know you didn't," she sighed. "Sorry, I'm just...taking out my frustration on you. And that isn't fair."

"But that's sort of what I mean. Frustration creates a mental block that is hard to get around. Just let it go and tackle it like a puzzle. And it's alright if you don't get it now or at all. You've got other strengths. Nobody's perfect."

"You're good at everything, though."

"Pfft, that's nowhere near true," he said sincerely. "I never really got economics." He watched her for a reaction, but she wouldn’t even look at him. She just stared glumly at her hands. “You know, you surprise me, Alex.”

She nodded. “I know. I must be a terrible disappointment.”

This took him off guard. “How so?”

“After I tricked you into thinking I was all smart and cool and stuff, but now you see what I’m really like." The Doctor refrained from telling her he had seen right through her act. "And I’m just...Not up to expectations at all.”

“I wouldn’t say that. But that proves my point. You’re a contradiction, Alex. You present yourself like you’ve got it all together and go into battle with your head held high, but then the next second you don’t even believe you can get through your maths.”

“Someone said something like that to me recently,” Alex replied. “But you’re all missing the crucial point.”

“Which is?”

“That I don’t go back and forth losing and gaining my confidence. I’m never sure about anything. I doubt every move I make. When I pretended to be Torchwood it was all out of spite. I don’t like being lied to or treated like a kid who can’t understand things. I acted out - irrationally, I know. But there it is. I wasn’t suddenly more confident, I was trying to prove to everyone after all this time of being told that I can’t do things that I could handle it. And I don’t know that I did.”

“You did,” he said slowly. “Sure you were a bit reckless, but I’ve been worse. If I had to choose between having Torchwood on my side or Alex Mitchell, I’d pick you. I certainly trust your motives and your instincts more.”

She gave him a strange look. “That kind of thinking could get you killed one day.”

“Yeah, well, I can live with that,” he smiled.

...

The Doctor continued stopping by every once in a while to offer help with her coursework - particularly with history.

"Y'know, it's so boring reading about it," Alex would say, hopefully. "Can't we just go-"

"Absolutely not," Sarah Jane would say, before either of them could even think about it.

…

“Tell me about your planet.”

It was a strange request coming from Alex. So far,she made a point not to ask him questions. She got the feeling that when someone asked him about his past he got sad about it, and she usually backed off. But this time curiosity got the better of her.

“So you believe I’m an alien then?” the Doctor asked her, deflecting.

“The TARDIS isn’t exactly Earth technology,” Alex teased. “Even if you _ are _human-shaped.”

“Maybe you’re Time Lord shaped,” he shot back.

They both laughed. “Will you tell me about it, though?” she pressed.

And he did, as honestly as he could. He left out things he didn’t want her to know about, but he told her the important bits. He told her what the planet looked like, the seas of red grass. He told her how his people had two hearts and could change their faces. What he kept to himself was how it actually felt for him to grow up there, the politics of the planet, the war. And the hardest part: that Gallifrey was gone and he was the last of his kind.

...

Once or twice the Doctor would arrive to find Alex hunched up close to the TV in the living room, fiddling somewhat frantically with a video game controller. Sometimes she would be playing something with the others, taking turns to finish a level or duke it out in a fighting or racing game. At these times it was fairly easy to drag her away for short bursts to work on her coursework, but it was always much harder when she was by herself.

They still hadn't quite gotten past the initial awkward phase, so didn't exactly have many enlightening conversations. The Doctor would often just have to wait in silence until she was satisfied with her progress on the game, or have a natter with Sarah Jane over tea and biscuits until Alex called for him.

One time the Doctor’s visit coincided with one of Jack’s. The Doctor ended up bored with Jack and Sarah Jane’s conversation so he went to watch Alex play her games.

"So what's the goal of this, exactly?"

Alex didn't look up, but her fingers hesitated briefly. "Whatcha mean?"

"This game. What are you trying to do? What's the story?"

"I dunno," she said, a bit crossly. "You just keep fighting and killing each other. The lore is so bloody complicated I don't really bother with it much. "Alex tuned out briefly to perform a complicated move. "This one's got time travel in it, supposedly, since it's meant to be a reboot, but I've not played the other ones so I couldn't tell you what's different."

The Doctor understood the historical significance of digital gaming. Earth's future held exponential advances in the paradigm. Ultimately its comprehensive impact on humanity's sociological evolution. When it came to playing the rudimentary console games of Sky's generation, he was, as Sky chipperly branded him one time, "a total newbie". His excuse had always been that there were simply too many he could not keep track and that they were too primitive.. The truth was he had just never been very good at them.

There were of course a few exceptions. Miss Pac-Man would be a galactic classic. Versions of this game were still being played hundreds of years after its release. The Doctor had a vintage arcade console in the TARDIS game wing. And Burger Time, which he found whimsical, although sometimes it made him peckish.

Today's console game appeared to involve fisticuffs. With a sigh, the Doctor slid off the couch and scooted closer to Alex. "Go on then, give us the other controller."

Alex paused the match mid-uppercut, turned to eye him suspiciously. "What for?"

"What do you mean, what for? So I can test my might against you."

She laughed. "Sorry, you're going to fight me?"

"If you'll allow me, then yes. Alex Mitchell!" he pointed at her and he raised his chin and extended his neck and spoke languidly but boastfully: "I hereby challenge you!"

His characteristic body language and personality made her laugh. They were becoming more comfortable with one another. This meant him showing more of her personality. This caught her attention, as he'd predicted. The sudden glint in her eye made him bite back a grin.

"Oh do you now?" she replied. "Do you even know how to play?" She asked facetiously. 

"Aah! I'm sure I can figure it out. It's all about predicting your opponent's moves, right? I'll be that noisy guy who does the bicycle kick."

"Liu Kang? I main Kitana, scrub. You're gonna make me make her decapitate the guy she likes?"

"You're very sure about that for someone who claims to never engage with plot threads."

Alex went a little stiff, then muttered something like "girls are just better, that's all".

When she didn't say anything for a solid minute, the Doctor pressed on. "Best two out of three?"

No response.

"Winner gets the last bakewell out of the fridge." He noted to quickly replace it before Sarah Jane found out.

Alex considered. Then she shuffled to the cabinet, took out a second controller, and held it out to the Doctor without looking at him. "I'm gonna crush you, old man."

"Honestly, I don't doubt you for a second. You seem like you were born a pro.”

She laughed. “I wasn’t always.” Neither of them saw Jack passing by the doorway. “Owen used to scrub the floor with me before I actually got any skill at it.” She realized what she said and got suddenly sad, just as Jack stopped in his tracks.

“Owen?” the Doctor prompted. “Was he part of the family that adopted you?”

She seemed oddly offended by this. “_ No _. He was Torchwood when I was a kid. He was...a friend, I guess. I technically shouldn’t’ve been allowed at the hub, y'know, and Owen was the one who never treated me like a little kid. He’d just play stupid games with me, and wouldn’t go easy on me.” 

“And what happened?” He actually didn't have to ask. He remembered Jack had briefly mentioned something about this.

Alex stared at nothing, shifting her jaw around. She set down her controller. “He died. A few years back. Right after I got adopted by my first family, but before the Dalek invasion.”

“I’m sorry. How did it happen?”

“I dunno. I was told it was classified. When Jack says that, you know it’s final.”

He was silent for a moment. “I really am sorry. I’d heard...I heard the whole Torchwood team had gone down. That must’ve been hard for you, losing your family.”

“It always is,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said softly. He thought about not saying it but it sort of leaked out. “All my family is dead too.”

She looked up sharply. “They are?”

“My whole planet is, actually. I’m the last one.”

She didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry,” she said, finally. "Anyway, my family isn't dead."

This surprised him, given the nature of their conversations thus far. "They aren't?"

She shook her head. "No. At least, my parents aren't. Jack always says so."

He tried to think of how to delicately phrase his question. "Where are they?" he asked, finally.

She shrugged. "Jack says they've been on some mission. Very important Torchwood stuff. They'll be back for me when it's safe."

"You sound like you doubt that?"

"...Sometimes?" she admitted. "I dunno, I just get this nagging feeling that there's something he's not telling me...but I'm probably imagining things. Jack wouldn't lie to me."

They sat in silence for some time. 

…

The Doctor popped in and out of their lives infrequently and on his own schedule. Alex became rather sick of this after a while.

"Here," she said.

"What is it?" he asked, looking at the small device she had handed him.

"It's a phone, you moron," she rolled her eyes. "It's not activated or nothin', I thought you could find a way around cell phone plans the way mine does."

"The way...yours does?"

"Yeah Jack gave mine to me. It's why I needed it back so badly. It's special-made so I don't have to pay bills on it and I'm supposed to get signal anywhere in space-time, _ but _ I've never had the opportunity to test it,” she smiled charismatically.

"And you're not going to," he said. "But why do I need one?"

"Because it's fun and exciting when you pop up out of nowhere, but it might be nice to schedule ahead of time. This isn't so we can keep in touch though. Like...I'm not that needy. Just like, shoot me a text whenever you'll be around and I'll tell you if I'm busy."

"Right, yes, of course," the Doctor said. "Makes sense. Probably won't use this thing all that often."

"Cool, whatever," she shrugged.

…

He got back to the TARDIS that night and went about his business as usual. He was lying in the hammock under the engine room when he remembered the phone. He pulled it out and saw that it was already programmed with Alex's number, Sarah Jane's number, and Jack's number.

"Jack would be so disappointed he wasn't able to hand out that number himself," the Doctor muttered.

He turned the device over and over in his hands, wondering if he really had a use for it.

"Well not like this, you don't."

He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and some tools and got to work customizing this phone. He admired his handiwork after a time.

"Yeah. I'll probably never use this, though."

…

Months were going by in Alex's time. December passed without word from the Doctor. They moved into the beginning of 2014 still with no word.

Finally, in March, he decided he had time. Of course, for him, it had been less time. He just wanted to keep Alex's expectations low.

He decided to call up Sarah Jane to schedule something.

"I think you should come by on the eighteenth. That's an ideal day."

…

"Doctor?" Alex asked, confused. "What're you...what're you doing here?"

"Scheduled some time with Sarah Jane," he said, though he was beginning to second guess himself. "Didn't I? Eighteenth of March, she said to come. Unless I got my dates wrong-"

"No it's the eighteenth today," she said, a bit crossly. "She's meddling, is what she's doing. I'll go have a talk with her."

"What's going on with her today?" the Doctor asked Sky as Alex huffed away.

"It's her 16th birthday," Sky said, surprised that he didn't know.

"Oh," the Doctor said, with a sinking feeling. "I know how significant birthdays are on your planet. ..So, this was a trap."

…

Alex sulked a bit about the Doctor being there, but was secretly happy. She'd been warming up to him, though she'd never admit it. Everyone in their inner circle was there, except-

"Uncle Jack," Alex said, unable to properly hide her excitement. "You made it!"

"Of course I did, kiddo!" he gave her a hug. "Wouldn't miss your birthday, would I?"

"You didn't have a problem missing my last two," she muttered.

He felt a slight twinge in his heart - something very like guilt. "Well I wouldn't miss your sweet 16, would I?"

…

"So? Has she asked yet?" Jack whispered to Sarah Jane when it was just the two of them and the Doctor in the kitchen.

"Asked what?" the Doctor asked.

"The agreement when she came to live with Sarah Jane," Jack explained. "If she still wanted to be emancipated at 16, then you'd support her. So did she ask?"

"She hasn't brought it up at all since that day," Sarah Jane replied. "I haven't either. And I won't. Not unless she does." She let out a deep sigh. "Honestly, I hope she's changed her mind or at least forgotten all about it. I'd much rather she choose to be a kid for a couple more years."

…

"Think I should be allowed to learn to drive," Alex said later that night. 

"I might be able to see about getting you lessons-" Sarah Jane began.

"I don't mean a car," she said, looking at the Doctor.

"Absolutely not," Jack said, immediately understanding her.

"What?" Alex asked. "I'm not saying to let him take me anywhere, I'd just like to learn how the TARDIS works. It's educational."

"Alright," Sarah Jane agreed.

"What?" they all said, not expecting her to agree so quickly.

"You've proven yourself to be responsible," Sarah Jane says. "Goodness knows the Doctor isn't the most responsible driver, but if this is what you've set your mind to, I'll not say no. The Doctor still can, though."

The Doctor thought about this, not appreciating being put on the spot. Especially not with the way Alex was looking at him - as if she expected him to say no.

"Oh alright then," he said.

"Mum, that's not fair!" Luke said. "You never let us-"

"You were grounded by the Judoon," she reminded him. That shut him up. She turned to the Doctor then. "You're not to take her out of the garden, you understand?"

"Perfectly."

…

"I'm sorry, Podling," Jack said to her later, as he was about to leave. "For missing your last two birthdays."

"It's alright," Alex shrugged. "You always called ahead and sent a gift. I always understood."

"It's not alright though. And you shouldn't have to pretend that it is. I'll do better."

"Are you ever going to tell me what it means?" Alex asked. "Podling? You always said you'd tell me when I got older."

He smiled warmly. "I said I'd tell you when the time is right. What year is it?"

"2014."

"The time is not yet right. I couldn't explain it to you now if I tried. The right context hasn't appeared yet."

She hugged him. "You're all a pack of weirdos."

…

"You're really gonna let me learn to drive the TARDIS?" Alex asked Sarah Jane later that night.

"I don't see why not," she replied.

"You really trust me with that?"

"I'd trust you with anything," Sarah Jane said. "You're quite a bit more level headed than he is, at any rate."

Alex hugged her. "Thank you, Sarah Jane."

"You're very welcome, dear."

It was the first time Alex called her "Sarah Jane" instead of "Miss Smith".

…

Alex stepped into the garden to get some air just before the TARDIS materialized.

"Sorry," he said, as soon as he saw her. "I just felt-"

"Guilty for not getting me a present?" she smiled. "I know. But it's not your fault. Sarah Jane sprang this on you last second."

"Got you this," he said.

"A journal?" She looked at it. It was very pretty - blue of varying shades.

"It's self-encrypting," he said. "I heard you say you like to write sometimes. Well this automatically sends out a psychic pattern that links to your own so that this can't be read by anyone but you."

She laughed, thinking it was funny but sweet. "Thanks, Doc."

"Yeah, well…" He ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't really know how to buy for teenage Earth-girls. Never was one myself."

"It's perfect," she assured him. She really focused on him then. "Hope you don't mind that I asked, but...What's up, Doc?"

"Hm? Nothing."

She tilted her head and gave him a knowing look. "Not nothing. Liar."

"What makes you think something's up?"

"Just...a gut feeling sometimes."

"Do you mind me asking…" he began tentatively. "What are you doing out here all alone at night?"

She shrugged. "Just thinking."

"About?"

She hesitated then shrugged. "When I first moved in here I said I was going to move out when I turned 16. And then none of us ever talked about it again."

"Do you still want to do that?"

"That's the funny thing, I don't think I ever did? I've just got comfortable here and...I'd really really hate to leave. I've been holding my breath all day, waiting for Sarah Jane to bring it up and start preparing me to do that."

The Doctor felt an involuntary rush of affection for her. "You know, I'd just not even mention it," he said, in an off-hand sort of way. "I mean, the best way to avoid something is to, well, avoid it, right?"

She laughed. "You call that responsible advice?"

"First mistake is thinking I'm the one to come to for responsible advice."

…

"Alright," the Doctor said, clapping his hands together. "For your first lesson, we're going to get to know the TARDIS console. At the Academy, we started with the boring stuff about how the TARDIS worked before we even got to know how to drive it, but humans have such short lifespans so let's just get you familiar with this and you can ask questions about that stuff if you want to know. See how it's shaped like a hexagon? That's because it's intended to be piloted by 6 people at once."

"But you do this alone?" Alex asked.

"It isn't so hard," he said, covering up for the slight twinge he felt at her words. "Anyway. We've got all sorts of things here for you to look at. Here you've got the Atom Accelerator, communications systems, information dispensers-"

"What are those things?" Alex said, pointing.

"Oh those? You must never touch those."

"Why not? Are they like self-destruct or somethin'?"

"No, no, it's just been so long since I've used them that I can't remember what they actually do, so I just make a point to not touch them just in case."

She laughed in disbelief. "You're the weirdest adult."

"What do you mean?"

"You just like...say stuff. Most grown ups are always pretendin' like they know what they talk about even when they don't. You just flat out say it."

"Better to be honest with these things. Don't want teenage rebellion of you touching buttons just because I said not to. Anyway, here you've got your stabilizers and shield manipulators and..." He caught the amused look on her face. "What?"

She just shook her head. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a huge nerd, Doc?"

"Not nearly enough," he replied.

"Clearly. It's good, though. Good to like things as much as you like this...incomprehensible tech stuff. Carry on, don't mind me."

"Right," he said, amused now as well. "Well, we're mostly going to focus today on getting you acquainted with the most essential piece of the TARDIS control panel."

"What's that?"

"The handbrake."

She rolled her eyes, still amused. "Alright, now we're crossing into boring responsible adult territory..." She tried to lean against the console in a cool way.

"Woah woah woah," the Doctor said, gently taking her by the arm so that she didn't accidentally lean against a particular switch. "Careful with that one."

"Another mystery switch?" She raised her eyebrows.

"No, I actually know what that one does," he said. "Been meaning to get rid of that one, it'll miniaturize us - such a hassle. When Rose and I-" He stopped, suddenly remembering himself.

"You alright?" Alex asked after a moment. "Who's Rose?"

He took a deep breath and plowed on like he'd said nothing. "Anyway, been meaning to get rid of it. Could get a stereo installed instead. Almost did, actually." He suddenly smiled. "If Ginger knew I'd turned down a chance at a proper stereo, she'd probably lose it."

Alex was getting whiplash from these sudden mood swings. "Who is _ Ginger _?” She had the feeling that she ought to tease him about the slip up, but couldn’t say exactly why. 

He blinked. "Nobody. Anyway. Might have to look into swapping that for a stereo. For now, let's get you acquainted with the handbrake."

...

The Doctor continued teaching her and she got really good at it - a natural, he called her. She took all her knowledge of joysticks and levers from the video game world and applied them here. One day, she stepped into the TARDIS and heard music.

_ "Travelling swallowing Dramamine _

_ Feeling spaced breathing out Listerine _

_ I'd said what I'd said that I'd tell ya _

_ And that you'd killed the better part of me-" _

The Doctor looked up and saw her standing there. "Sorry!" he apologized, hitting a switch. "Testing out the new stereo, but I know it's a bit depressing." A more upbeat song began. "In kinda a Modest Mouse mood."

"What's a modest mouse?" she asked, tilting her head.

"I know of someone who'd most likely be very offended that you said that," he shook his head, amused. "They were a band in the 90s. Still should be a band in your time."

_ 'Everything that keeps me together is falling apart _

_ I've got this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over _

_ My boss just quit the job _

_ Says he's goin out to find blind spots and he'll do it _

_ The 3rd planet is sure that they're being watched _

_ By an eye in the sky that can't be stopped when you get to the promise land _

_ You're gonna shake that eye's hand." _

"They're a bit odd, aren't they?" she chuckled, shaking her head.

"Been having a new appreciation for the 90s lately," he admitted. "Good decade. _ Great _decade." He said this last part as an afterthought - as if he fully expected to be reprimanded for under-hyping the 90s.

"So what are we learning today?" Alex asked, picking up on the odd mood he was in.

"Well it's just occurred to me that I've finally caught back up with..." He stopped himself, as if thinking better of it. "Something I was doing ages ago. Timelines are back up to date. I think. What day is it again?"

"August 23rd," she said, steadily.

"Of 2015, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Good, good..." he said, vaguely. "We have caught back up then. It hasn't even been a full week."

"...Since?"

"Since nothing," he said, quickly. "If it's alright with Sarah Jane, I'd like to take you on a field trip today. Reward all your hard work."

The excitement from this statement was enough to distract her. "You mean...we get to finally leave the garden?"

"If it's alright with Sarah Jane."

She squealed excitedly, hopping a bit. "Let's go ask right now! Where would we go?"

"Just to London. Was thinking we could go see a show."

...

They arrived in Camden in time for a Sunday matinee of one of the worst plays Alex had ever seen. Luckily, Alex was a big fan of making fun of bad acting, so she and the Doctor managed to bond over whispering snide comments to one another.

Intermission came.

"Come on," he said to her.

"Where are we going?"

"To visit a...person that I know."

Again with the weird vague comments.

They were stopped in their tracks by a blonde with thick perfume.

"Lauren told me she saw you out here," Margot said. "I could hardly believe it - had to come say hi! Thought you'd said you wouldn't be back after saving my life?"

"Turns out I can't resist the call of the theatre," he said, awkwardly.

"I just wanted to thank you again for, you know...saving my life," Margot said. "And saving our show. As much as I resent not having Lauren's part, I didn't really want anything bad to happen to her."

"Don't mention it."

"And I've got a new appreciation for screamy music now," she insisted.

"Have you?"

"Well I appreciate that it saved my life, at any rate," she smiled. “And I’m not having any side effects anymore! The jaw pain finally faded, so I’m good as new!”

"That's nice-"

"Excuse me, what's happening here?" Alex cut in.

"Who's this?" Margot asked, suddenly noticing her.

"Her?" the Doctor said. "That's classified.”

“Anyway,” Margot said, suddenly seeming uncharacteristically nervous. “I’m glad you came back. I wanted to see you again. I felt we had some unfinished business.”

“We can pick that up later,” the Doctor said, obliviously. “Do you know if your tech’s around?”

Margot looked slightly put out by this. “Oh. I thought...but of course you’re back for her. That makes sense.” She nodded to the tech booth. “She’s up there, like always. I’ll see you around.” She took off towards the stage.

Alex punched the Doctor on the arm. “Ow!” he exclaimed. “What was that for?”

“She _ clearly _ likes you and you were just _ very _dismissive!” Alex hissed. “You hurt her feelings!”

“Margot doesn’t have feelings,” the Doctor attempted. “Not for me at any rate.” Then it suddenly occurred to him. “Really? Are you sure?”

Alex shook her head in disbelief. “You’re a piece of work. An absolute bloody disaster of a person.”

“Well you’re stuck with me,” the Doctor said. “Now follow me.”

They climbed up the ladder onto the landing where the spotlight was, then through the door into the tech booth. And there she was, just where he'd expected her to be. Today she was wearing a Buffy shirt and red trousers while her music played softly.

"I saw you coming,” Ginger said, without looking at them. “Gotta admit, I’m surprised.”

The Doctor held up his hands in mock surrender. “I come in peace.”

“What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you again. I’m not exactly good at making first impressions.”

"I decided to give us both another chance at a second first impression. Happened to be in the neighborhood-"

"I find that hard to believe," she said, standing up. She noticed Alex. "Who's this?"

"This is Alex," the Doctor replied.

"You're a bit young, aren't you?" Ginger asked, looking her up and down. "Don't mean that in a belittling way because teenage girls are actually ruthless and I wouldn't cross 'em, just like..." She turned back to the Doctor. "Who's she to you? Daughter?"

"No."

"Sister?"

"No."

"Cousin? Niece?"

"No relation whatsoever. Completely human."

"What's she doing with you then?"

"She's in my care for the day, so I decided to take her out for a little culture."

"Where? Here? I'm not sure this is exactly the pinnacle of culture. You use your psychic paper to get her into a drunk theatre?"

“She’ll be 18 early next year, and I’m not letting her drink.” He shrugged. "Be that as it may..."

She turned back to Alex. "What are your opinions of this play?"

Alex hated being on the spot. "Uh...I dunno. Honestly, I kind of think the whole thing is silly. The plot is obvious, the dialogue isn't great, and the acting-"

Ginger was satisfied. "Good, then there might be hope for you yet." She turned back to her controls and the song she was listening to kept playing.

_ "Travelling swallowing Dramamine _

_ Feeling spaced breathing out Listerine-" _

"Wait, Doctor?" Alex asked, suddenly realizing. "Isn't that what you were just listening to in the TARDIS?"

"Of course you're a Modest Mouse fan," the Doctor said, shaking his head. "This one's a bit depressing, isn't it?"

Ginger rolled her eyes. "I can change it." She hit a switch and another Modest Mouse song came on.

Alex raised her eyebrows. "Alright, is this some kind of thing? Because this is the exact same song you switched it to."

"I like 3rd Planet," the Doctor said. "It's a good one."

"What did you say this band was called?" Alex asked.

Ginger raised her eyebrows. "You poor depraved child, not being raised to know Modest Mouse." She shook her head. "All the adults in your life have failed you...Well, adults tend to be disappointments."

Alex turned to the Doctor. "Who did you say this was again?"

"Eh...I don't think that's my information to give out."

"You can call me Ginger," the tech said.

"Ginger," Alex repeated. "It's just weird to me that you two just happen to do the exact same thing, that's all. Actually, let's do an experiment, just to make sure you're not secretly the exact same person. Both of you at the same time say your favorite Modest Mouse song."

"Do we have to?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes," Alex said, stubbornly. "On the count of three...One..."

"That's a really difficult question-" Ginger protested.

"Two..." Alex continued. "Three!"

"Satellite Skin!" the Doctor said.

"Whenever You Breathe Out, I Breathe In!" Ginger said. "Oh wait, can I change my answer? I also like Medication and Little Motel and-"

"You are horribly depressing, did anyone ever tell you that?" the Doctor smiled. She stopped mid-sentence and just gave him a look.

"Well that's good at least," Alex said, after an awkward moment. "At least we know you're not the exact same person. Was getting freaky for a moment."

"It's been nice to chat," Ginger said, rolling her eyes. "But intermission's almost over. Gotta get back to work." She reached over to flicker the house lights.

"Why did you do that?" Alex asked in fascination, as she walked up to the control board.

Ginger looked up, appearing startled by the interest. "Uh...It's just a signal meaning to return to your seats so the show can start again."

"What do all these buttons do?" Alex asked, pointing. She just couldn't help herself, she was naturally drawn to buttons and dials.

"Eh, well," Ginger said. "These control lighting and sound for the whole theatre. That spotlight out there barely works and I never use it - it’s just for show. The real work gets done in here. Typically in a bigger theatre I'd have a whole team to boss around, but here it's just me. Not so bad - see these buttons? I can do some programming so some functions happen automatically. I like to do my sound cues myself because I'm more particular about those mixes, but I do admit to pre-programming my Soundcraft in advance when I know I've got a lot I've got to do at once."

Alex noted how she'd gotten the same look on her face when she talked about the theatre tech that the Doctor had gotten when he talked about the TARDIS. "Anyone ever tell you you're a huge nerd, Ginger?"

Ginger smiled to herself wryly. "They never seem to stop."

The Doctor intervened at this point. "You know, Alex, if you're really interested in learning about tech maybe Ginger would offer to give you lessons?"

Ginger was alarmed by this. "What? Oh no, no, I'm much too busy. Plus I'd be a terrible teacher and I'm not great with kids-"

"Come on, you'd be great," the Doctor said. "And it would give Alex something to do. What do you say?"

Ginger was hesitant. "Fine. But only if the kid wants to."

"I'm game," Alex said. She noticed there were weird vibes in the air suddenly, but was actually really interested in getting to know this stuff. "As long as there's no homework."

Ginger made a face. "Homework? As in work that you have to do at home? Gross. But in all seriousness, I could take you on as a trainee but I don't have money to pay you. Which is against all my principles as an anti-captalist. Like I don't believe in money generally, but as long as we live in a society that forces it out of us I believe unpaid internships are immoral. Don't wanna be hypocritical."

Alex shrugged. "I'm 15, consider it more of a class instead of a job. I'm not payin' rent or nothin' so what's the point of money?"

Ginger considered this. "Alright. Bring her by on Wednesday, we'll get her started. I do always say we have a shortage of female techs - it'll be nice to make sure these skills are passed on. But I want to make a few things clear, kid...I'm not here to be your mom, your cool older sister, your friend, your role model of any kind, you got that? We're here to learn tech, don't start looking up to me or anything."

"Don't think that'll be a problem," Alex said. "I mean I barely know you, but you seem like _ kind _of a mess."

"That's fair," she replied. "Absolutely fair assessment. Now, you'd better go take your seats."

...

"So what's this all about?" Alex asked as soon as they got back to the TARDIS. She crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

"What's what about?" the Doctor asked, obliviously.

"I've been thinking about it and I remember you accidentally mentioning her in passing. Then you said something about timelines adding up...Looks like an excuse to me."

"An excuse to what?" the Doctor asked.

"I dunno. See her, maybe?"

"Why would I want to see her? Not like I had a Heart-Size Crush on her or anything.”

Alex blinked at the strange words. “_ What _?”

“Nothing,” he said, hurriedly. “That’s just the song she was singing when...Never Mind. Honestly, I wasn’t making up excuses to go see her. I mean you met her today, she's a _ bit _uptight. No, sometimes the two of you just remind me of each other. Don't read too much into it."

Alex just looked at him for a moment, then decided to drop it. "Alright, well, at any rate - good luck getting Sarah Jane to agree to this new training thing."

"I don't think she'll have a problem with it, honestly. It's educational."


	7. Halogen Lamps

(Chapter art by[ Meribor](https://seems-like-a-good-idea.tumblr.com/))

When the Doctor and Alex arrived that Wednesday afternoon, Ginger was sitting center stage with her long black-and-white stockinged legs lazily dangling over the edge. She was eating a singular green apple that she held loosely in one hand and reminded Alex of a particularly ill-tempered ragdoll. She was wearing a black dress underneath her customary leather jacket on this particular day. What the Doctor and Alex didn't know was that just seconds before they'd entered the room, Ginger had deliberately positioned herself in this dramatic fashion to look as noncommittal and lazy as possible.

"Nice hoodie,” she said to Alex, ignoring the Doctor completely. “Wear a lot of those, do you?” She’d noticed a similar one last time she’d seen Alex, and she was spectacularly good at picking up patterns.

“Guess so,” Alex shrugged.

“I guess that’s what all the cool teenagers are wearing these days,” the Doctor said, trying to worm his way into the conversation.

Ginger ignored him and turned to Alex instead. "You hungry, kid? Got another apple if you want it. Thought it would be thematic. Apples are usually the fruit of knowledge, right? And I’m supposed to be giving you knowledge? So I’m offering it."

"Yeah, I could eat," she shrugged, trying to look bored by the suggestion even though she was positively famished.

"I could use a snack too," the Doctor said, as Ginger tossed Alex the extra apple. Ginger didn't have particularly good aim, but Alex managed to catch it anyway.

Ginger bit her lip in a sarcastic display of remorse. "Yeah, sorry, I only had two apples."

"I could go for anything, really," the Doctor pressed. "Bit of a long trip up here from Ealing."

Alex pulled a face. "No it wasn't-"

The Doctor hushed her with a wave of his hand. "Traffic was brutal."

"Figured you wouldn't want one of these," Ginger said, evidently leading up to the punchline she'd been thinking up for the past few days. "An apple a day is supposed to ward you off, isn't it?"

"Funny, but I actually inspired that phrase," the Doctor said, ruffling his hair. "Welsh women aren't my biggest fans."

"Well perhaps you aren’t such a Casanova after all," Ginger said, dryly.

“I was mildly surprised that you jumped to that particular reference, if I’m being entirely honest,” he admitted. “Didn’t think you found me that charming.”

“I don’t. I just noticed how silly the other girls were being over you. I don’t really get all the fuss to be honest.”

"Just like I don’t get all this fuss over an apple," the Doctor replied. 

“Could end badly for you,” she pointed out. “Could be very Biblical.”

“An apple a day doesn’t keep me away, honest,” he appealed one more time.

"It does if you throw it hard enough," Ginger said, tossing him her unfinished apple.

Once again, her aim wasn't great, but he managed to catch it. "Funny," he said, taking a bite. "That's what the Welsh women said too."

Ginger turned to Alex then. “Come on, kid. Let’s get started.”

...

"These machines are very delicate," Ginger said after they reached the tech booth. "So I think we'll have to build up some trust before I can let you touch them, is that fair? No eating and drinking anywhere near them - they're expensive."

"Alright, alright, no touching," Alex said, thinking that she was a bit more uptight than the Doctor. After all, however apprehensive he was about certain buttons, he was always excited to show her how to operate the TARDIS.

"This is my Soundcraft LX7II," Ginger gestured to one machine. "It's a few years old, yes, but it gets the job done."

"Surprised you don't use Q-Lab," the Doctor cut in.

"That's a Mac program," Ginger reminded him. "I don't use Apple products because they charge exorbitant prices. And I like using old fashioned machinery like the Soundcraft. Something about using old-fashioned sliders feels organic - I was trained to run tech long before Q-tech was even dreamt of."

"Lot of buttons, isn't it?" Alex asked.

"Could seem overwhelming, I guess," Ginger shrugged. "But I was younger than you when I learned, so you should be fine. This machine is my baby, so we'll build trust before we start using it, if you don't mind. Instead let's have a look at this guy...The ETC Express 24/48."

"What's it do?" Alex asked.

"It's responsible for all the lighting," Ginger explained. 

"Beautiful piece of machinery," the Doctor marveled. "What's it got - 30 channels?"

"48, actually," Ginger said, surprised.

"How many DMX outputs?"

"Over a thousand, I forget the exact number."

"It's gotta be several hundred cues here?"

"That number I do know - goes up to 600. As I said, this runs the lighting for the whole theatre, except the limelight.”

The Doctor was suddenly very interested. “Wait, did you say _ limelight? _Like a real limelight?”

“Yes, the one just outside the door,” Ginger nodded her head toward said door. “You passed it on the way in.”

“No but a real limelight, not just a spotlight?” he pressed. “I thought it had looked retro, but I didn’t think it was from the 1800s?”

“It was expensive,” Ginger admitted. “We were doing Dickens and I wanted real authenticity. So I requested a real limelight. It was a real bitch getting them to agree to it, and I’ve only used it the one time.”

“Well understandably,” he replied. “That kind of machine takes constant maintenance. And you don’t exactly find operating materials lying around.”

“You know an awful lot about lighting,” Ginger said, trying not to be impressed. 

“Well you consistently surprise me,” he admitted. “Everything you use in your day-to-day life is just...not at all up to date with the rest of society. Not even up to date with anything you would’ve known in your _ lifetime. _”

She shrugged. “I just like this stuff, that’s all. Just because it’s old doesn’t mean it’s obsolete.”

Alex looked between the two of them. "Have I told you two today that you're nerds?"

"I'm sure if we ever forgot then you'd be sure to remind us, Alex," the Doctor said.

Ginger and Alex managed to make some progress despite how obviously obstructionist the Doctor was behaving on this particular day. Though Alex didn't get to really handle anything herself, she was grasping concepts relatively quickly. After all, it really isn't that difficult to learn how to do tech if you really have an interest in it.

The Doctor found himself frequently bored with the proceedings. He wasn't a big fan of sitting still in linear time and it made him feel like crawling out of his skin. Any time the attention was away from him for what he felt was an extended period of time he'd suggest a funny internet video to distract them for a time or lead Ginger off on one of their nonsensical tangents that Alex was now beginning to feel pretty used to. A few times it seemed as though the Doctor couldn't help himself from showing off how much _ he _knew about operating the sound systems. Either way, he was a bit of an impediment.

After around an hour, he decided he would have to end it there for the night.

"Well I don't know about you ladies, but I'm starving," he announced, clapping his hands together. "Thanks for the apple, but it wasn't that filling. How about the three of us go out and get some food?"

"I'm game," Alex said, still hungry herself.

"Oh I don't know about that," Ginger said. She wasn't really someone who was good at socializing unless there was something to be focused on. "You two go on without me. Alex, you've made great progress today-"

"Nonsense, we're all going out," the Doctor said, as if that settled matters.

Ginger's mind was racing through possible excuses since she wasn't used to being asked to hang out. "I really need to be saving money right now."

"Don't worry about it, I've got the money to cover us," he replied amiably.

She tried to come up with another excuse, but couldn't. "Fine," she sighed, giving in at last. "But you're buying me a milkshake."

...

The three of them walked round a corner in search of a neat little diner the Doctor knew of when Ginger stopped short.

"What?" the Doctor asked, feigning innocence.

"It's just..." Ginger stared straight ahead. "I could've sworn I've never seen that telephone box before."

"Well actually-" Alex began.

"It's such an odd color," Ginger mused. "Must be an art installation."

She simply strode away as if she hadn't seen it, missing the amused glances being exchanged between the Doctor and Alex.

...

They found the diner and settled into a corner booth.

"Bit of a hot night to be wearing that leather jacket, isn't it?" the Doctor asked pointedly, as Ginger took her first sip of her chocolate milkshake. "Must be burning up."

Ginger could sense this was a trick question meant to make her open up about how this was hot for a British night but wasn't hot compared to wherever in America she was from. She instead answered: "I'm cold blooded. Like a frog."

"A frog?" the Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Most people's go-to with cold blood is a snake."

"Yeah well, I think frogs are cute," she replied. "Weird little dopey things. Used to play catch-and-release with 'em when I was a kid."

"You live here in Camden, Ginger?" he asked, not allowing her to steer the conversation.

She was caught by surprise, as not many people noticed when she'd divert the conversation away from things she didn't want to talk about. "Yeah," she answered, sipping her milkshake but not breaking eye contact.

"Why'd you move to Camden, Ginger?"

"Liked the climate. Both weather-wise and people-wise. It's a place with a bit of an artsy punk history, isn't it? I naturally drift towards that. Shame about all the recent gentrification, though."

"Have you been in London long enough to know what it was like before gentrification?"

She knew he was trying to call her bluff but was still determined to not give anything away. "Only been in London a few years. Was in Edinburgh before."

Alex had been watching all this go down with the utmost confusion. She'd been getting used to the Doctor and Ginger going off on some rant that she didn't understand and forgetting she was there, but there was some kind of unspoken communication happening here that she knew she was missing. There was a bit of tension and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"I'm sure Doc could tell us all about what Camden was like before, couldn't ya?" she asked, with a placating smile. "Bet you know all about that."

The Doctor and Ginger both blinked in unison, the tension breaking as they came back to themselves.

_ Well at least it's not just me, _ she thought. _ It's not that I become invisible, it's that when the two of them get going the rest of reality just fades out of existence. _

"Yeah I sure could, kiddo," the Doctor said, grinning as he ruffled Alex's hair in that way that she only hated in front of company but pretended to hate no matter what.

"So are we gonna to schedule another time to do this or what?" Alex asked, smoothing down her hair. "Maybe next time Doc won't be acting like a hyperactive toddler. I just need to schedule it around school since classes start up again next week and I'll be starting a-levels soon."

"Sure I guess so, if you feel you can take that on," Ginger said, noncommittally.

"What courses did you decide to take, Alex?" the Doctor asked.

She shrugged. "Easy stuff mostly. Some psychology, some history. I'm not really the best at school to be honest. I always seem to fall behind. But I'm really gonna try this year to make it work."

"You got any plans for what to do after this year?" Ginger asked.

Alex shrugged again. "I dunno. Haven't really worked that out. There's so much out there that I'd like to do but not necessarily anything I feel confident pickin' for the rest of my life. Or even anythin’ I know 100% I'm capable of. Never really been much good at anythin'."

"That's not true," the Doctor said. "You were pretty good today, considering all the distractions."

Alex shifted uncomfortably, as if she doubted it.

"Do you do any extracurriculars?" Ginger asked.

For a third time, Alex shrugged. "Not really."

"You ever try out for plays?" Ginger pressed. "They're having some auditions next week at my theatre for the fall production. Could give you something to do after school."

Alex raised her eyebrows incredulously. “At the Bacchus? I’m 17, I dunno about doing drunk theatre.”

“It’s not all drunk theatre,” Ginger tried again. “It mostly is, sure, but they’re having an audition next week for some Tennessee Williams thing that is supposed to be just done straight if you’re into that.

“Straight?” she repeated. “I dunno if I _ am _into that.”

"I think it's a great idea!" the Doctor exclaimed,oblivious to her tone. Then he saw her face. "But you...evidently don't?"

She hesitated before sighing. "I mean, I just don't do public speakin'," she explained. "Its not that I have nothin' to say, jus' that I sound a bit...Well, I don't have the right accent for things. Nobody takes me seriously 'cuz I sound rough. You'd have to do a whole My Fair Lady on me."

Ginger rolled her eyes, exasperated. "That's ridiculous. It's your voice and you get to do what you want with it. Never change it just because someone else has an opinion about it. You shape it to communicate who you are and use it to tell everyone else to go to hell. Sure, if you want to be an actor you might have to learn other accents, but there's no reason you should have to change it just to speak up in public."

The Doctor piped up. "She's right-"

"Oh shut up, you," Ginger cut him off before turning back to Alex. "He's English, he doesn't get a say."

"Am not!" he protested. "Englishmen are always so...bloody hell. Sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, bollocks! Oh, God! I'm English!"

Ginger rolled her eyes, unable to prevent herself from completing the Buffy reference. "Welcome to the Nancy Tribe." She shook it off. "Anyway, point is he doesn't get a say."

"I'm English too, though," Alex frowned. "Doesn't that prove your point wrong if you're trying to say I'm allowed to speak but he's not?"

She waved this off. "Nah, because he sounds like how the English want you to think 'respectable' sounds. His people are the kind that would make us feel bad for the way we talk. You know why that is? Pure classism is why that is. Lots of actors who don’t sound like him can’t get work because we don’t sound like them. Where are you from? Little further north?"

"Yeah but I spent some time in Birmingham too."

"Yeah, see, people like him would be sitting here telling you that you're all chavs and layabouts round there. Anywhere that has a history of crime and poverty. They say that the accents are ugly only because they're trying to make you ashamed of not being them. And don't ever give in and become them. The only unforgivable thing in this world is assimilating and becoming posh. Wouldn't be punk at all. You've got the accent of resistance, which makes punk rock your birthright."

Alex thought this all over. "Still don't feel like auditioning for a play, though."

"Well that's alright, we need more female theatre techs in this world," Ginger said. "Too many bloody actresses. You know, we're going through a-"

-"Female tech shortage, we know," Alex and the Doctor finished for her in unison. She said this a lot.

"Alright," Ginger said, after a moment's pause. "If you want to schedule more tech practice, why not on Tuesday?"

"Sounds alright to me," the Doctor said.

Alex was getting out her wallet. "Yeah, 's good with me too."

Ginger narrowed her eyes quizzically. "You're not paying?" she asked Alex.

"Yeah, I always do," the girl replied.

Ginger looked at the Doctor. "She always pays?"

The Doctor shrugged in an innocent way. "I never carry money."

"So you're gonna make a little girl pay for your meal?" Ginger replied.

"I'm _ not _ a little-" Alex began.

"Are you going to pay?" he asked Ginger, cutting Alex off mid-sentence.

Ginger floundered. "Well, I hadn't planned on it," she said, uncomfortably. "The deal was that you pay. I can't generally afford to eat out."

"It's really fine," Alex said. "I'll pay, it wasn't much anyhow."

...

"Could we walk you home?" the Doctor asked as they left the diner. The night had nearly fallen and the last light of dusk was taking most of the day's heat with it.

"I'm good, thank you," Ginger said, briskly. "I prefer walking alone. I'll see you both on Tuesday." She turned and began walking back the way she came.

"We're going in this direction too," the Doctor said, as he and Alex sped up to match her stride. "You live near the theatre?"

"Yeah, something like that," Ginger said, vaguely.

"How on Earth can you afford rent prices 'round here?" the Doctor asked as they began cutting through an alley.

Before she could think up an answer, there was a loud crash from a nearby alley. They stopped short, barely having time to register what was happening as all the lights on the street went out.

The three of them stood in silence for a moment, but finally the silence was broken when Alex pulled on the Doctor’s sleeve.

“_ Run _,” she said, and he didn’t need to be told twice. He and Ginger took off after her.

“What is it?” the Doctor asked. “What did you see?”

“I don’t know, mostly not anything,” Alex panted. “Somethin’ was movin’, something big. And it felt wrong.”

“It felt wrong?” asked Ginger, incredulously.

“Yeah, just somethin’ felt off about it and I’m scared of it so I’m runnin’, alright? Don’t bloody argue with me about this!”

“Alright, alright, fair enough,” Ginger replied. “Where are we going?”

“Towards the light, of course!” Alex shouted, frustrated. “Where else would we go? Some _ thing _turns out the lights, so you go into them! Obviously!”

They were dashing towards a nearby street, which seemed to be a beacon of light on the horizon. 

“So you’re sure it _ is _ a thing?” asked Ginger. “It _ could _just be a random power outage-”

“It’s not a random power outage!” Alex snapped. “Look, I know I’m just a 17 year old girl, but that doesn’t mean I’m imagining things!”

Something about this statement hit Ginger hard. “I’m sorry, you’re right. If you say it was a thing, I believe you.”

They skidded into the light, finally allowing themselves to stop in the safety of this new street. They all struggled to catch their breath as they turned to look behind them at last. There didn’t seem to be anything there. 

“Where is it?” Ginger whispered. “Maybe we gave it the slip? Or it wasn’t actually chasing us.”

“It was there right behind us, I could feel it,” Alex replied, shivering. 

“What do you mean you could feel it?” asked the Doctor.

“I don’t know. But it felt just as scared as we were, which made it dangerous. It felt backed into a corner.”

Ginger saw something moving in the dark and pointed. “There!”

“You see it?” the Doctor asked.

“Not exactly, but it moved,” Ginger replied. “There _ is _something there. Something that doesn’t belong here.”

Alex reached in her pockets and the Doctor noticed this. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Looking for my phone,” she replied. “It has a flashlight.” She found it and held it up, aiming the flashlight at the shifting object. They got a glimpse of something grayish and insubstantial that hissed as soon as the light hit it. Before they could get a good look, Alex’s phone went dead in her hand, drained of all battery. Then the streetlights began to flicker.

“Doctor?” Ginger said, nervously.

“Yes?” he replied.

“Time to run again?”

“I think so.”

So the three of them did, just as the lights went out everywhere in Camden.

"What was that thing?" Ginger asked, as they raced down yet another alley. "Another alien?" The Doctor thought he detected the faintest note of curiosity and not enough fear despite the running.

"Couldn't get a good look!" he shouted back. "It was coming right at us in the dark!"

"Come on, we can hide inside the theatre til we're sure it's safe!" Ginger suggested, rounding a corner.

"Don't be silly, the TARDIS is closer!" the Doctor said.

"The what?" Ginger shouted, in confusion.

He and Alex slid to a stop just short of the blue police box Ginger had seen earlier. "Come on," the Doctor said, putting a hand on the door. "Hop in!"

Ginger was skeptical. "Is this some kind of joke?" she asked, hands on her hips. "We don't have time."

His face split into a wide grin. "Speak for yourself! That's something we've got plenty of, as it turns out."

"Get in there?" she replied incredulously. "It's so tiny!"

"Appearances are deceivin', blah blah blah, we know the sale's pitch, Doc," Alex said, coming up behind Ginger and giving her a shove. "Let's get a move on!"

The Doctor opened the door and Ginger allowed herself to be pushed inside. Her jaw dropped.

"It's..." she said, struggling for words.

"Yeah?" the Doctor prodded, amused.

"This is like some _ House of Leaves _type stuff," she concluded.

This took him by surprise. "Was expecting you to reach for Hermione's hand bag and not a horror novel, but I suppose I see your point."

"Welcome to the TARDIS, Ginger," Alex said. "Yep, your eyes ain't deceivin' ya. It's really bigger on the inside."

"TARDIS?" Ginger breathed.

"Stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space," the Doctor said, proudly. "My time machine and space ship. And to think, you didn't believe me."

"Wait a second," Ginger said, fishing her iPod out of her pocket. "When you gave me this, you told me to call it TARDIS."

Alex groaned and rolled her eyes. "Ugh, he would. Thinks he's funny. Because it's a little blue box that's bigger on the inside."

"It is funny, though," he replied, as if stung.

"Okay, this is a fun party trick," Ginger said. "But I still don't believe it actually flies."

...

The TARDIS materialized on the roof of the theatre and the three of them clambered out.

"No _ way _," Ginger said, spinning around to look at the city. "This is far out."

"Far out?" Alex scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"We've still got to figure out what that thing was back there in the alley," the Doctor said. "But afterwards, do you want to go to maybe another planet? Or a distant time?"

"I mean _ yeah _totally!" Ginger said, with the closest thing to positivity she'd displayed so far. "I have to get immunized first, though, right?"

"What?" the Doctor replied, thrown off.

"I mean, for alien viruses and stuff," she said, as if this were routine.

"I mean not generally," he said, wondering where this was coming from.

"What do you mean not generally?" she replied, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. "I obviously have to get vaccinated. Are you telling me you don't vaccinate the people you travel with? That you didn't vaccinate Alex?"

"No-"

"That is so _ bloody _ irresponsible!" Ginger shouted, her temper flaring up again. "You mean to tell me you just fly around everywhere with vulnerable people? What if you go to the middle ages and get plague? Or the 1700s for smallpox? What about Spanish flu? _ Hell, _even a few years ago your friends could get bloody swine flu and you're telling me you're not being safe? Ridiculous! Don't tell me you're one of those bloody antivaxxers!"

"I never really thought of it like that," he said, apologetically. "I'm immune to most human diseases so-"

"Well that's bloody great for you, but the rest of us are vulnerable to fucking polio!"

"Guys, we don't have time for this!" Alex cut in. "We've got to solve a mystery."

“Right, yes, of course,” the Doctor said, glad for the interruption. 

“I don’t think that thing likes being looked at,” Alex pointed out. “I mean, we’ve only gotten glympses of it up til now because it keeps sucking the power out of anything that we have.” She held up her cellphone. “Case in point.”

“Interesting point,” Ginger said. “I’d thought it was all about feeding off it, but it could be an attempt to camouflage itself. Keep itself in shadows. Out of the limelight.”

Then she had an idea, one that she could see the Doctor was also having based on the look he was giving her.

“I’m not a mind reader or nothin’,” Alex said, looking between the two of them. “But I know what you’re thinking, and it won’t work. There’s no electricity on the whole street.”

The Doctor didn’t break eye contact with Ginger. “If I’m right, that won’t be a problem.”

…

The TARDIS materialized center stage, and the three of them took off towards the tech booth at once. 

“Limelights were invented in the 1800s,” Ginger explained. “They didn’t use electricity, the light came from burning a block of calcium oxide. If we can get it working, we might be able to do something.”

“We’ll have to lure it here first, even if you _ can _somehow get this bloody thing to work,” Alex said, throwing her hands in the air.

“Good point!” Ginger agreed. “I’ve got some glow sticks in my bag. Feel free to dig around.” She tossed it at Alex. “You can make a trail outside luring it in.”

“What?” the Doctor asked, suddenly alarmed. “No, absolutely not, you’re not sending my...you’re not sending Alex out there by herself. That’s far too dangerous. We still don’t know what that thing might do if it attacks.”

“There are plenty of weapons in my bag,” Ginger insisted.

“Yeah and I was trained Torchwood, I can take care of myself!” Alex said, stubbornly.

Suddenly a familiar voice rang out from below. “Hello? Anyone in here?”

“Margot?” the Doctor asked, surprised. He turned to Ginger and asked in a low voice. “What’s she doing here?”

Ginger shrugged. “No idea.” Then she peered over the edge of the loft and shouted down with her remarkably loud voice: “What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off primping or whatever it is you do when you should be studying lines?”

“You don’t have to always be such a bitch, you know,” Margot sulked. “I was nearby and the power went out and I didn’t know where to go til it came back on. Knew you’d still be here.” She peered around in the dark. “Can you come down? I can’t see anything.”

“That’s because the power’s out, Margot, you half-wit,” Ginger snapped.

“Yeah, well, I’m just concerned you’ll try to mug me while you’ve got the upper hand, you felon!”

Alex was growing weary of these adults fighting like schoolchildren, and decided to cut in. “Well that solves our problem! Margot and I will go out with the glow sticks and you and Doc will figure out how to get the limelight working.”

“Who’s there?” Margot asked, alarmed by the new voice.

“Just us,” the Doctor said, cheerily.

“John?” Margot asked, startled. “Is that you?” 

Ginger glanced at the Doctor and mockingly mouthed ‘John’ at him. 

“I guess I forgot to tell her to call me ‘Doctor’,” he shrugged. Then he raised his voice to talk to her. “Listen, we haven’t got much time. There’s another alien loose that we’re trying to trap. Can you take Alex outside and set it up?”

“Can’t I just stay in here with you?” she asked, in a small voice.

“Sorry, couldn’t quite hear that?” the Doctor asked, raising his voice.

“Margot, how many times do I have to bloody tell you?” Ginger asked, practically shouting now. “_ PROJECT. _ We can’t hear a _ word _you’re saying up here!”

She cleared her throat. “I was just saying I’ll do it. Whatever you ask. It’s fine, really.”

…

The Doctor and Ginger sent Alex down to help Margot while they worked on the limelight.

“I’m sure we’ve still got some calcium oxide somewhere,” Ginger rummaged through her supplies. “We _ can’t _have used all of it on one three-day production.”

“You’d better have it,” the Doctor replied. “This whole plan is banking on it.”

“Here!” Ginger said, triumphantly holding a block aloft. “It’s not much and won’t burn long, but if we do it right, we can do this! It’s not an electrical source so it can’t feed off it, right?”

“That’s the theory,” he agreed. “If I’m right, this should burn this being out of existence.”

The two of them got to work making sure the limelight was in perfect operating condition.

“So you don’t use Apple products?” the Doctor asked, out of nowhere.

“What? No. Overpriced. I’m not buying into the whole corporate brand.”

“But you carry the one I gave you,” he pointed out.

She didn’t immediately have a comeback to this. “Shut up,” she finally snapped. “It was free.”

…

Margot and Alex got to work spreading the glow sticks up and down the block. 

“This would be a lot faster if we split up,” Alex pointed out.

Margot didn’t like this idea. “I don’t think we should if there’s some monster going around.”

“Yeah but the faster we do this, the faster we get inside,” she pointed out.

Margot deliberated. “Good point,” she admitted. 

So the two of them split up to get that done.

Margot had just placed down her last glow stick and was getting ready to return to the theatre when someone stepped out of the shadows in front of her.

“Don’t scream!” a female voice said, putting up her hands in a placating way. “I mean you no harm.”

“I’m not gonna _ scream _,” Margot snapped, though she had been bracing to do that. “What the hell are you doing here? I’m doing everything just exactly how you told me.”

The woman stepped from the shadows into the dim light of the glow sticks. She was asian, in her mid-40s, and seemed to be wearing a pirate costume. “And? What’s your progress?”

She groaned. “None,” she admitted. “He was too focused on helping _ her _with whatever they were doing there in the dark.”

“Then you’ve got to try harder,” the woman insisted. “You told me you wanted him. You’ve got to try harder.”

“Can I ask what’s in this for you?” Margot asked. “Why are you so interested?”

“It’s of the utmost importance that the Doctor not end up with Ginger.”

“Ginger?” Margot repeated the name. “Is that her real name? No wonder she changed it.”

“Her real name is hardly relevant,” the woman insisted. “You need to go back in there and try harder. You can’t let him get close to her, you understand?”

…

Alex and Margot reunited at the door, just in time to notice something traveling their way. The light of the glowsticks wasn’t bright enough to harm it or show it in any kind of detail, but as they also weren’t electrical the beast wasn’t able to suck out the power.

“Let’s get inside,” Alex said. “_ Quickly. _”

…

The four of them huddled on the loft as Ginger operated the limelight and shone it directly on the beast.

“What _ is _that?” Margot shouted as her eyes fell upon it.

It was hideous and misshapen, if it had ever possessed a shape to begin with. It seemed to possess no physical form and was translucent like gray smoke. It did possess a skeletal frame and sharp teeth, and it hissed and sizzled in the light of the single spot. Ginger locked eyes with it, taking in the fear and the pain in its faded yellow eyes. She dropped the spotlight at once. 

The Doctor was surprised to see this reaction from her, but instantly took up the spotlight himself to continue killing it. It screamed and faded from existence, leaving nothing behind except all the electricity that suddenly flooded back into the town.

…

“You’ve saved our lives again, Doctor,” Margot said, as she was preparing to leave. “I was hoping to see you again, actually, but I’d hoped under more pleasant circumstances. Maybe we’ll have a chance to meet again soon?”

“It’s likely,” he said, dismissively. “I’ll be around here a lot, I imagine.” He didn’t notice how put out she was by these words. “You’d better head out, Margot.”

Meanwhile Alex had a question for Ginger. “Hey,” she said, as delicately as possible. “Can I just ask...Why you’ve got so many different weapons and things in your bag?”

“Better safe than dead,” she shrugged, as if this were a normal thing to say. “So, see you in a few days, then?”

“I think that sounds fair,” the Doctor said with a smile, appearing next to them. He turned to Alex. “Could you give us a moment? The grownups need to have a conversation. Boring stuff.”

Alex could sense the half-truth of this statement, but decided not to say anything. “Er...alright, then.” She began descending the ladder so she could head back to the TARDIS.

“What happened back there?” he asked Ginger, gently.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, defensively.

“You faltered back there. With the limelight. You had it on the creature and then something happened and you let go.”

“It didn’t belong here,” she said, repeating what she’d said about it before.

“No, it didn’t,” the Doctor agreed. “But neither do I.”

“I don’t mean the way you don’t. You’re from Here. It isn’t. It’s from Nowhere. And it was in pain. It wanted us to kill it.”

“How do you know what?”

“I...don’t know. It was alone and it hadn’t been seen in such a long time, but being seen was dangerous to it...I don’t know what it was...but it felt like I _ knew _it…”

The Doctor was almost concerned by this. “Ginger...Does this happen to you a lot? You have this kind of connection to things?”

She snapped out of it. “No, never,” she snapped. “When would I have the opportunity? It’s not like this is my everyday life! I don’t even know what I mean. Ignore me. Now I think you should leave so I can lock up.”

…

Ginger had almost fully committed to the idea that the TARDIS was a time machine, even if she wouldn’t admit that. Just as a precaution, she went to a nearby pharmacy on her off time to procure some immunizations. 

"What do you mean you don't do plague or smallpox vaccines?" Ginger asked the pharmacist.

"They're not really in fashion at the moment," the Doctor said, cutting in next to her.

"Much like your shoes," Ginger grumbled, pretending not to be startled by his sudden appearance.

"Look, they're not going to immunize you here," the Doctor said. "Traveling with me is going to be a bit of a leap of faith."

"I don't do that so well when there are risks," she replied.

"I understand that," he replied. "Listen, I'm not immune simply by being less than human. There's a universal vaccine that works for most major human historical plagues. It doesn't work on everything because there are strains, but that's how vaccines work. There are no 100% guarantees. I have one more dose if you want it."

"Okay," Ginger said, satisfied by this outcome. "But I'm not leaving with you immediately. I have things to do."


	8. American Made

**September 1st**

"So it turns out, there might have to be a sliiiight change of plans," Ginger said the moment the Doctor and Alex arrived.

"Hello to you too," the Doctor replied.

"You remember I said we're running auditions this week?" Ginger asked, ignoring him. "Well people will start getting here in half an hour and I completely forgot. We can go over some stuff in the meantime, but then I'm thinking you'll have to run lights and sounds for the duration of today's audition. You know, as a trial run."

"I haven't really got to try on my own, though!" Alex protested, suddenly nervous.

"Don't worry, it's not a musical," she replied. "All you'll have to do is slightly adjust light and mic levels if the director needs it. We mostly won't have to do much."

Alex considered this. "Alright then," she said, finally.

"It's a bit boring though, so you might want to have something to do," Ginger said. "You started classes yet?"

"Yesterday," she nodded.

"You got any homework?"

"Yeah just got to read a chapter for history, that's about it."

The Doctor and Ginger both spoke at once.

"Oh well that's easy!" he said.

"We can knock that out in no time," she said.

"I'm a bit of an expert," they both said at once before exchanging a look. Ginger folded her arms and looked away quickly.

...

Alex was a quick study when she was actually allowed to learn with no interruption, so by the time people arrived for auditions she had all the basics down. Ginger had been right - there was very little do once people had arrived. Alex was reading aloud from her textbook at the Doctor's insistence when Ginger stopped her.

"Wait, wait, what was that?"

Alex repeated it back.

Ginger frowned. "That's, well, not _ un _true, but the wording seems deliberately slanted to convey a biased conservative message."

"How so?" the Doctor asked, interest piqued.

"The implication is that trade unions are outdated and unnecessary in the modern age," Ginger replied. "It's not as explicitly anti-union as the rhetoric I remember from when I was in school, but it's definitely leaning a certain way. And this close to Labor Day too!"

Alex was confused. "Labour Day was months ago?"

Ginger backtracked quickly, aware that the Doctor was watching her closely. "Um...yeah, obviously," she said. "I meant Labor Day in the US. That's coming up soon."

"Why do you know what day Labor Day is in the states, Ginger?" the Doctor asked in a steady voice.

Ginger refused to look at him. "Anyway, this kind of rhetoric is meant to make you not know how good the unions have been historically because big corporations want to continue exploiting people. But you're smart, Alex, I'm sure you see right through this kind of stuff."

Alex shuffled uncomfortably. "Well, I actually don't, much," she admitted. "Only people I ever heard talk about unions are old people whinging about them. All this political stuff just kinda goes over my head. Never really much cared about it. Protesting always seemed kinda pointless to me."

"Protests are not pointless, that's just what men want you to think!" Ginger protested. "They're afraid that if we take action and mobilize then they will lose power, so they convince us that any struggle is futile.”

“Who’s they?” Alex asked, perplexed by her sudden fervor.

She spluttered, casting about for words to explain this. “You know..._ Them! _ The _ man! _Basically whoever is holding the power at the moment! If I could go back in time and be part of one of the big political protests, I would in a heartbeat!"

This gave the Doctor an idea. "What if we could go back?" he asked. "What better way to show Alex the value of unions than to go on strike herself?"

...

"I still don't believe this box is a time machine," Ginger scoffed, as the Doctor began putting in some coordinates some time later. "I mean, the entire idea is ludicrous."

"Always trying to Scully me," he said, under his breath. "We'll show you, shall we?" He paused and looked up. "So what are we thinking? Coal Miners Strike? Stick it to Thatcher?"

Ginger paused for the slightest fraction of a second. "Yes of course," she said, shifting a bit. "As good a starting place as any. Never miss a chance to stick it to Thatcher, personally."

"We can get in some light picketing," he pressed, picking up on her slight discomfort. "Where would you like to start?"

She scrambled, trying desperately to think of any place in the entire United Kingdom. Her eyes landed on Alex. "Birmingham, maybe?"

"Nah, that would be boring," the Doctor replied. "Didn't get much support for the strike in the Midlands, as I'm sure you know. Think bigger."

She thought again, drawing a complete blank. Before the silence could go on longer than half a second, the Doctor cut in again. "I know what you're going to say, and I agree. We should go to Yorkshire."

...

After arriving in Yorkshire, the Doctor showed Alex around the picket lines for this particular historical protest - though not without occasionally asking a leading question of Ginger that was meant to trip her up and reveal that she was not, in fact, as knowledgeable as she pretended to be. This left her quite flustered in a way that outwardly showed as frustration.

At one point, Alex carried on ahead of them in the crowd to investigate something herself. The Doctor was making to follow behind, but Ginger cut in front of him with her arms crossed. He took an involuntary step backwards when he saw how absolutely livid she appeared to be. For such a small thing, she really did give off the most formidable energy.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, menacingly.

"What do you mean?" he asked, innocently.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she grumbled, eyes flashing. She brandished a finger in his face, but she might as well have been pinning him to an alley wall like a mobster in a movie. "For one thing, I don't give a damn about the fossil fuel industry. Sure, I'll take any excuse to stick it to Thatcher, but that's more out of general principal than knowing anything of substance about your bloody government. And you know that. You know I don't know as much about British history and you keep intentionally trying to out me here. Trying to make me look stupid."

"Why do you care so much?" he asked, intrigued in spite of himself.

"I'm trying to blend here," she spat. "There are things I don't want to think about where I came from and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop reminding me that I don't belong anywhere. Like that thing we...we _ killed _last time I saw you." Her eyes glazed over with a haunted expression. “That didn’t belong here either. I don’t...want to be like that.”

The Doctor was taken aback by the sudden turn of the conversation. “That really bothered you, didn’t it? More than you let on?”

She snapped back to the present. “No. Of course not. Shut up. I don’t get bothered.” She shifted her weight uncomfortably. “But you killed it. In an instant, without thinking. You saw the reaction I had to it, you saw me hesitate, and you did it for me. Why?”

“Because it was Wrong,” he said, suddenly serious. “I could sense that the moment I laid eyes on it. Some...Time Lord instinct told me I had to end its miserable existence. I didn’t think, I just acted. If it’s worth anything, I wish I hadn’t acted so quickly. I wish I’d investigated. I wish I knew what it _ was… _ ” He looked her straight in the eyes with a sincerity she wasn’t used to. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that...that _ thing _. That wasn’t my intention. Can I do anything to help?”

She sighed, smoothing down her skirt and collecting herself. "Just stop with the questions, okay? Try to make me look smart. When I was talking about protests I was mostly meaning the Shirtwaist Factory Fire."

"Oh," he replied. "Yes I suppose that would be more relevant to you." He paused. "Shall we go find Alex?"

...

Sometime after they located Alex, the Doctor thought it might be time to go.

"Shall we head home then?" he suggested. "The police will be arriving any minute and it gets pretty brutal."

"We can stick around for that," Ginger replied. "It sounds like it's about to finally get interesting! Fight the fascist police state! Stick it to Thatcher!"

"Yes, well, I don't think Alex should end up in a 1980s prison over this," he replied, pointedly.

"What, let the kid fight for beliefs like any of the rest of us!" Ginger protested. "I'm sure she can handle it."

"Maybe another time," Alex said, not really fancying it.

...

"So what, we're really just going to go back to the 21st century?" Ginger asked, once they got back to the TARDIS. "Just like that? I mean, that was a bit tame for my taste. We should at least show Alex the power of true political activism."

"What do you suggest?" the Doctor asked.

"Exactly what I said before," Ginger replied. "The Shirtwaist Factory Fire."

The Doctor considered it. "That's not a bad idea, actually," he admitted, unconsciously ruffling his hair.

"What's the Shirt...thing," Alex asked.

"Shirt_ waist _, it's a type of blouse," Ginger explained. "Only one of the most influential protests of the 20th century."

"Alright, so we go straight to the protest," the Doctor said, fiddling with various levers and contraptions. "Ginger can fill you in with context on the way."

"Actually, I think it would be better if we showed her the context," Ginger cut in, prompting him to stop in his tracks. "Go all the way back. After all, this is something that was largely glossed over in my own understanding of history. The textbooks in my area were very conservatively biased so we got as little information as possible. I'd be interested to witness it first hand."

The Doctor glanced quickly at Alex. "I don't think that's the best idea," he replied. "It's a bit horrific and very upsetting."

"What?" Ginger said, crossing her arms. She tilted her head slightly to the side, raising her eyebrows at the same time with an incredulous smirk. "You don't think the kid can handle it?"

"I can handle it!" Alex protested, annoyed again at being used as a pawn in their disagreements that she sensed weren't even about her.

"Yeah, you hear that?" Ginger replied. "She's not a child, she can handle it. It's important to show her just how bad it was so that she'll understand."

The Doctor hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "You both understand you can't save anyone, right? You'd only be able to watch and observe."

"I think we can handle that," Ginger said. "Right, kid?"

"Right," Alex agreed.

He still hesitated before finally caving to the peer pressure. "Okay," he relented. "We'll go. How far back?"

...

**March 25th, 1911**

"Welcome to Manhattan, Alex Mitchell," the Doctor said, a bit more solemnly than usual. "This is the Asch Building. In about 4 hours something very bad is going to happen here." He turned to Ginger then. "It's not too late to go back."

"I'm not backing down," Ginger said, with the slightest bit of exasperation. "We just need to find a way to get inside..." She spotted a girl entering the building. "You! Hey! You, girl!"

It was a young girl, only a few years younger than Alex. "Yes?" she asked, timidly. She seemed too polite to mention how perplexed she was by their state of dress, but it was evident on her face. "Can I help you?"

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked, kindly.

"Kate," she replied, still politely vexed.

"Alright, Kate," he said, fishing his psychic paper from his pockets. "We're meant to be starting work in the factory upstairs today, would you be able to show us up?"

"You're a few hours late for your shift, though, aren't you?" Kate asked, with a slight giggle. "I know some places work differently on Saturdays, but the industry standard is 8 AM."

"You have to work on Saturday?" Alex asked, scandalized in a way that only a schoolgirl could be. "In the morning?"

"You may not be actually cut out for this type of work," Kate said, not unkindly.

"Do you work here in the factory, Kate?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes," she replied. "But I'm on my lunch break now and only get 30 minutes."

"We'll buy you a lunch then, just quickly," Ginger said quickly. "Get to know the skinny on the factory."

"The skinny?" Kate asked, perplexed yet again.

…

They went to a small restaurant and tried their best to get information out of Kate. It wasn’t hard, actually, she was an open book.

"My cousin Annie got me the job," Kate told them, in response to more prying. "She had gotten a job for my cousin Michelina, so when it came time for me to work it seemed like a natural option. Do you speak Yiddish?"

"No," Ginger and Alex said.

"Yes," the Doctor said.

"Just asking because a lot of the ladies here are Jewish immigrants and most of them don't speak English," Kate explained.

"And how do you like it here?" Ginger asked.

Kate bit her lip, obviously trying to think of the best way to respond. "It's...fine, I suppose," she said, nervously. "It's a job." She leaned across the table. "I haven't been there long, myself. But if you want to talk to someone with REAL dirt on the company, I'd talk to Esther. I heard she marched with the 20,000."

...

"Hey, do you want to see something neat?" Kate asked as they entered the lobby for the Asch building. "Not a lot of buildings right now have one, but we have four elevators! Instead of going up all those stairs, we can just take a ride up!"

"Splendid!" the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together. "And these new contraptions really work, do they?"

"Ah, well," Kate replied. "Only one of 'em does at the moment, but they'll have the other three fixed up in no time. Still better than walking up to the top floors."

"That it is," Ginger agreed, though there was a slight edge to her voice.

...

"Bit of a narrow corridor," the Doctor replied, as they exited the elevator. "Tiniest bit claustrophobic."

"Can get a bit crowded sometimes around end of day, but we make do," Kate replied.

They entered a dimly lit factory room populated almost entirely by women.

"This place is filthy," Ginger remarked under her breath to the Doctor.

"It's an early 20th century city, what do you expect?" he muttered back.

A young girl of about Kate's age rose from her sewing machine to come greet them. Kate spotted her first.

"We've got some new workers today," Kate explained. "This is Rose, she'll help you if you need anything. Her mother and sister work in the factory too. Rose, we're just going along to find Esther. They need to be walked through their day-to-day duties."

Ginger and Alex pretended not to notice how there was just the slightest change in the Doctor when the name "Rose" was spoken aloud.

...

"Yeah I marched, what of it?" Esther asked, obviously suspicious. She was closer to Ginger's age and obviously had just as much patience. "I try not to go around telling everyone, though. I'll lose my job for that if I'm not careful."

"Could you tell us what the march was for?" the Doctor asked. "We're British, we don't really know."

"Against places like this," Esther said, in a hushed voice. "I actually hate that I ended up having to work for the same kind of people I protested for in 1909, but I had to keep a roof over my head. And that's just the way they like it."

"How much do you get paid?" Alex asked.

Esther laughed derisively. "Not enough. We work 12 hours a day with not enough breaks and still make only $15 a week if we're lucky.

"It sounds like a sweatshop!" Alex replied, scandalized.

"Exactly why we protested," Esther said. "That and Clara Lemlich. She's an inspiration to all of us." She stopped and beckoned them closer with the air of someone about to say something very scandalous. "Honestly, if you can get out then do it now. The Triangle Shirtwaist factory is owned by Blanck and Harris. They broke up the strike last time by paying politicians to look the other way while they payed cops to beat and imprison protesters. It's why I have so much respect for Miss Lemlich, she was right in the thick of it getting beaten by the cops and it didn't spook her at all. She's still out there fighting so we won't have to live like this. And that's not all. Rumor has it that Blanck and Harris set fires to their factories for insurance money. Diamond was scorched twice in the last few years and I hear almost ten years ago that this factory burned twice in a year.”

“And what about fire safety?” Ginger prompted. “Do you have any precautions?”

“They've refused to get us sprinklers in the event that it happens again,” Esther explained. “There are a couple hundred girls who work here, and only one elevator."

"What about the stairs?" Ginger asked, in a not-at-all-leading way. "We saw two staircases to the street when we were coming up."

"They lock one of them from the outside," Esther said, conspiratorially. 

“But what happens if there _ is _an emergency?” Alex asked, beginning to be scandalized. “I mean, doesn’t anyone care what happens to you?”

"Of course not,” Esther replied. “Most of us are immigrants. A lot of us don't speak English. Our lives are worth less than the merchandise. A lot of these rules are for the safety of the goods, not the people - anti-theft and all that. We're not to be trusted."

"Hey! You there!" a man was walking towards them menacingly. "Who the hell are you?"

"We were just leaving," the Doctor said. "Got a little turned around. Esther here was giving us directions."

...

"So what happens to all those girls?" Alex asked. "Or...what happened, I guess? This is where you tell me that this wasn't horrible foreshadowing and those girls don't immediately die in a fire." She saw his face. "Well we have to stop the fire, then. We have to save them."

"I told you before we came that we can't," the Doctor said, softly.

"Why not?" she replied, temper flaring up again.

"I think it's something called a paradox," Ginger said, slowly. "They mention it in sci-fi a lot. You try to fix a historical event and either end up causing it or making something worse happen. I think in this case if these workers didn't become a catalyst, then we'd all still be working in conditions like that."

The Doctor was surprised by this response, to say the least. “So you’re not about to start rushing in to fix it?” he asked her.

“I’m no Hiro,” she rolled her eyes. “I know better.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Nobody said you had to be a hero-”

“Not a _ hero _ , a _ Hiro _,” she said. “Hiro Nakamura. From the show Heroes?”

“Oh,” he said, as it dawned on him. “The guy who could manipulate space-time?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “The thing that annoyed me about him was all the agonizing about not causing a paradox and changing things but then he _ always _tried to do it. Couldn’t help himself.”

“To be fair, he was in love,” the Doctor pointed out.

She gave him a funny look. “Like that’s an excuse.”

...

The three of them stood outside the building at the moment the first plume of smoke began to curl from the windows.

"It started in a rag bin," the Doctor explained, as the shouting started. "There were some 600 workers inside at the time."

"And they had nothin' to stop it?" Alex asked, growing visibly upset. "No extinguishers?"

"They had a hose," the Doctor said, solemnly. "It was rotted through and the valve was rusted shut."

"Almost 150 people died in this fire," Ginger carried on. "Only about 20 of them were men. This would remain the single greatest tragedy in American history for the next 90 years."

"And what happened then?" Alex asked, in a choked voice. "What could be worse than this?"

They both answered at once.

"9/11," Ginger said.

"September 11th," the Doctor said.

"And we can't save any of those people?" Alex asked, tears streaming down her face. "Not Kate? Not Rose?"

"No, we can't," the Doctor said, flatly. "It would break the universe."

"People made it to the roof!" Alex shouted, as people emerged there. And so they had. Panicked women could be seen jumping from the roof to other rooftops. But at the same time that she registered this, she could see windows opening on other floors. "Hang on..."

When the first woman plummeted to the street below, Alex couldn't bear to watch anymore. The bodies just kept falling. Panicked people thinking it was better to fly than to burn. Ginger was watching this all unfold with less than he usual careful composure, though only the Doctor seemed to notice.

Firefighters rolled out a safety net to catch jumpers, but when three women jumped at once it broke. That, combined with the panicked screaming and the heat from the flames launched Ginger back into one of the memories she tried to forget. She closed her eyes and hoped it would stop.

"We have to save them," Alex said.

"We can't," the Doctor said.

"If you won't do anything, then I will!" she replied, with new determination. Before anyone could stop her, she raced towards the burning building.

"Alex, wait!" the Doctor said, panic rising as he went to follow her.

"She's right," Ginger said, snapping out of it in time to follow him. "We have to save them."

“Oh not you too!” he shouted, exasperated. “So much for not being a Hiro!”

...

The air inside was hot and thick with smoke. The Doctor and Ginger coughed as they followed Alex into the thick of it all. Alex was pressing frantically on the elevator button, but nothing was coming anymore.

"Come on, help me get this open," she said.

"We have to go!" the Doctor protested, as Ginger reached her and began helping her pry the elevator doors open.

The moment the elevator doors opened, Alex screamed. Bodies had immediately fallen through the doorway, all piled up on each other.

"They jumped down the elevator shaft when it stopped working!" the Doctor shouted. "We have to go!"

"Oh my god!" Alex shouted, recognizing one of the bodies. "Esther!"

"The lift is broken!" the Doctor said. "We've got to get out of here!"

But Alex only had renewed determination and shot off towards the stairs.

"Alex no!"

She reached the door at the top of the stairs and attempted to wrench it open. It was hot to the touch, so when it became apparent that the door was locked she turned to the Doctor.

"We have to get this open!" she shouted. "Give me the sonic!"

“What?” the Doctor shouted.

"The sonic bloody screwdriver!" she reiterated, her panic expressing as frustration. "Give me the bloody screwdriver or I swear-"

The Doctor was struck by how very grown up and formidable Alex looked when she was angry. He began fishing the sonic from his pocket when the door was broken down from the other side by firefighters. The worst of the fire was starting to be contained.

"What are you doing up here?" a firefighter shouted.

And with that, Alex succumbed to the effects of smoke inhalation and passed out.

...

The Doctor and Ginger got Alex back to the TARDIS and waited anxiously for her to wake up.

"This was a bad idea," the Doctor said, pacing. "I knew this wasn't a good idea."

"The kid had to see what was really at stake," Ginger said.

"She's been through enough and we put her through this," the Doctor fretted, before turning his wrath on Ginger. "Then you run off and encourage her! That was risky and impulsive!"

"That's rich, coming from you!" Ginger shouted, her temper flaring. "I doubt you ever take the time to think things through before you do it! And it's not even like I'm the only one who's hiding things! You just call yourself 'the Doctor' and keep all these secrets! I never ask! I could ask why when that girl back there was named Rose, you reacted like someone died!"

"A lot of people died today!" the Doctor replied, ignoring the question. "And it could've been Alex too! And what was that back there? Before you decided to break the rules and run in there after her, you looked like you'd seen a ghost!"

"I didn't expect it to be that bad, okay?" she snapped, crossing her arms to stop herself from shaking. "I mean I did but I didn't expect to feel so...It's one thing to be politically motivated by something that got two pages in a history book. It's another thing to see it, okay? To be there on the ground witnessing it first hand. To talk to those girls. They were younger than Alex and now they're just..." She squeezed her eyes shut, a completely separate memory of fire flashing through her mind at that moment.

There was a small silence where neither of them could think of something to say. Luckily it was broken by Alex groaning as she regained consciousness.

"What happened?" Alex asked, sitting up on the sofa she'd been laid out on.

"You passed out," the Doctor said. "I was just about to take you home."

Then Alex remembered. "Those girls! Did we save any of them?"

"I'm so sorry, Alex," the Doctor replied. "We couldn't get there in time."

"Kate?" Alex asked. "She got out, right?"

"That was Kate Leone," the Doctor said. "According to records, she succumbed to smoke inhalation and never made it out of the building. She was 14."

"We should get you home," Ginger said.

"No, not yet," Alex replied, with that same fierce determination that had led her to jump into the flames in the first place. She turned to Ginger. "You said there was a protest for this? I want to go. I want to be there when these people are brought to justice. The men who did this don't think women can stand up for themselves, so I would like to be there to show them we can."

The Doctor and Ginger were both impressed, though for different reasons.

Ginger did a good job hiding that. "The protest _ is _the reason we came," she said. "Would be a shame to miss it. But you're not going to like what we have to do to get there."

"What do we have to do?" Alex asked.

"You and I have to wear old-fashioned dresses. Like the suffragettes did." She noticed the look on Alex's face. "Come on, historical cosplay is fun! We get to play the part! Also there might be photographs taken and we can't be seen there dressed in 21st century garb. Also we might meet Clara Lemlich."

"Who is this Clara?" Alex asked. "Everyone keeps mentioning her."

"Only one of the most badass suffragettes!" Ginger replied, barely hiding her excitement. "She organized several rallies and founded several women's rights organizations!"

"Wasn't she a communist, though?" the Doctor asked, amused.

"Semantics," Ginger waved this away. "It's less important what she believed than the results she got and how she achieved them."

...

"This is the costume closet!" the Doctor said, showing them in.

Ginger gasped, though tried to cover it up with a cough. "Closet? More of a show room."

It was the biggest assortment of clothes that she had ever seen, in many different styles and designs.

"The TARDIS automatically generates costumes in your size based on your personal preferences," the Doctor said.

Ginger spotted a rack with the name "Donna" on it. "And you just keep these after we go?" she asked.

The Doctor covered well how stung he felt by the way she phrased that. "Yeah, well, to a point," he said. "I like to redecorate the entire interior of the TARDIS sometimes and when I do a full reboot in the system it takes all the previous outfits and moves them to storage. Otherwise this would be a lot more cluttered. Anyway, I'll leave you to it."

Ginger found a section with outfits just for her. "Oh no waaaaay," she breathed, looking at the assortment of multicolored leather jackets and boots. She stopped herself. "But we're going as suffragettes...Ah, all of these outfits have sleeves, they really _ are _designed for me!"

"I've really got to wear this?" Alex asked, holding up a dress.

Ginger frowned. "No, not that," she said. "That wasn't really the fashion for another decade." She crossed to Alex's rack and picked something. "_ This _is perfect."

"I hate wearing dresses," Alex complained. "I never feel quite comfortable."

Ginger wandered off behind the racks to change, and when she returned she found Alex tugging uncomfortably at the dress she was wearing. Ginger frowned.

"What are those?" she asked, pointing at her feet.

"Socks," Alex grumbled.

"They're not period appropriate," Ginger said, exasperated. "I know you've got some nylons around here somewhere. And you have to find some different shoes. Women didn't really _ do _tennis shoes."

"I feel more comfortable wearing these, if you don't mind."

"What's that on the socks?" Ginger asked, slightly amused now. She put on a new voice to sound like an old southern American grandma. "Is that one of them Pokechus?"

Alex was confused for a moment before she realized Ginger was teasing her about them being Pokemon. "They're Skitties," she defended herself. "I like 'em. And it's Pokemon. Don't tell me with all the things you've watched, you've never watched Pokemon?"

She shrugged. "Never really did the anime thing. Missed that." She frowned a bit then. "You're really going to need to not be wearing Skitty socks in 1911. It'll raise questions."

Alex sighed. "I really don't want to."

"Why's that?"

"I'm just more...I like my shoes and my socks. You can...you can run easier in 'em. It's safe."

"You're running from something?"

Alex paused, considering her options. "Also that and I don't like lots of questions."

"About what?"

She hesitated before sighing. She slipped off one of her shoes, pulling down the sock as she did so to reveal a mess of old assorted scars. "I just don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Ginger was unreadable for a second, before seeming to make up her mind about something. She rolled up the sleeves of her dress. "I understand."

There were a web of scars etched into her skin. Some old, some newer. Some caused by the traditional cutting that you'd expect while others seemed to be burn marks. "You don't have to explain. We all get them different ways."

Alex lost the ability to speak for a minute before taking a deep breath. "I'll change," she said, making a decision at last. "The shoes and socks, I mean."

Ginger smoothed down her sleeves again. "Good girl," she replied. "Now let's not mention this again, eh? No time like the present to forget about all of this! Moving on!"

"There's one thing I want to ask you, if that's okay?" Alex said, after a short pause while she picked new shoes.

"Shoot," Ginger said.

"Are you a communist?"

She laughed. "What would give you that idea? That's a very strong word."

"Just the way you talked about this Clara person and you are always saying that you're anti-capitalist."

"No I don't think I'm a communist," Ginger said. "But I'm not a capitalist either. I'm not sure what I am, honestly. Never given it much thought, to be honest. Not that I really know much about communism, but I assume that Miss Lemlich's communist beliefs aren't the same as what communism has become today."

"You don't know much about communism?" Alex asked.

"Never researched it," Ginger admitted. "Not ashamed to say I don't know something. It's better than having a strong opinion that isn't founded on fact. Why, do you?"

"No, it's just...I've spent this whole time thinkin' you and Doc know everythin', but here we've just found two things in the last five minutes that you don't know."

Ginger shrugged. "It does happen."

...

"No, no, no! That won't do!" the Doctor declared upon seeing them.

"What?" Ginger asked, defensively. "The costumes are accurate and it took me _ ages _to get this one into a dress!"

"The dresses are brilliant, it's your hair!" he despaired. "Ginger, you need to at least put a comb through yours! Alex, you need to put yours up. You need to blend in properly with the suffragettes!"

"Arbitrary beauty standards," Ginger grumbled, pointedly.

"That may be," the Doctor said. "I thought you would take care of that, with your theatre experience."

"I'm not really good at the whole hair and makeup thing," Ginger admitted. "I can smear on lipstick but you had to have realized by now that I always come out looking like Courtney Love. I've convinced myself that it's punk."

"And none of this stuff is really my scene," Alex said.

"Well lucky for you ladies, I know just how to fix it!" the Doctor exclaimed.

...

The Doctor had to admit that Ginger's lesson had been effectual. However they'd reached this point, Alex was now politically engaged on this one issue and taking to the streets to fight for what she believed in. It made him quite proud.

The three of them got to meet Clara Lemlich after she gave an impassioned speech at the front line.

"Ginger?" the Doctor teased, after Lemlich had moved on. "I think you might have the tiniest crush on Clara Lemlich.

"What?" Ginger scoffed. "Don't be weird." She spotted Alex a little way ahead, fiercely protesting. "Can we agree never to tell her?"

"Tell her what?" he asked.

"That Blanck and Harris essentially got away with it," she said. "This protest changed the world, but I don't want her knowing that they got off with basically no consequences. It might reinforce her thinking that protests get nothing done. Women are discouraged from having a voice, so I don't want her to ever think that speaking up is useless."

"Agreed."

He peered at her for another moment. She noticed. “What?” she asked, without looking at him.

“It’s just that you try so hard to pretend you don’t care about anything. But you do.”

She groaned. “Back on this again? I don’t care.”

“You can’t be this angry without caring.”

She couldn’t immediately think of something to say. “I’m too punk rock to care,” she said, irritably. “Leave me alone.”

...

"This makes me wonder how much else they're not telling us!" Alex said, when they returned to the TARDIS.

"A whole bloody lot, as it turns out," Ginger said. "I was actually wondering if I could borrow that history textbook of yours just to see how much more they got wrong. Maybe make a checklist of things we can clear up for you."

"That's not a half-bad idea!" the Doctor said.

"How would you feel about another outing after Saturday’s rehearsal?"

“Brilliant!” he grinned. “And let’s do something fun this time!”

“Like what?” Alex asked.

He smile secretively, already formulating an idea. “It’ll be a surprise.”

…

Ginger was taking a bit more time to get out of her costume than Alex was, so Alex rejoined the Doctor in the control room.

“Doctor?” Alex asked, a note of anxiety entering her voice.

Her tone stopped the Doctor in his tracks. “What is it?” he asked.

“Can I ask you something? And you don’t have to answer.”

He found this concerning. “Go on.”

She bit her lip, still hesitant to press. “Who is Rose?” He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach at the sound of the name. “I don’t mean that girl in the fire...I mean your Rose. Because you had one, right? When that name was said...You weren’t right. You were so sad. I don’t mean to pry…”

“Rose was someone I loved,” he admitted, heavily. “Before. She’s gone now.” He felt himself withdrawing emotionally and decided to snap himself out of it. He clapped his hands, a smile returning to his face. “Now let’s talk of more cheerful things! Like shoes and ships and sealing wax-”

“And cabbages and kings?” Ginger cut in, raising her eyebrows as she reentered the room. 

The Doctor groaned, good naturedly. “Of course you’re an Alice in Wonderland fan.”

“I guess you could say that,” she smiled in a peculiar manner. “I’m still bitter about it though.”

“Bitter?” Alex asked. “Why?”

“Oh I did a production of it about a million years ago,” she waved a hand dismissively. “I was snubbed for the role I wanted. Never quite got over it.”

“What role did you want?” asked Alex.

“I was going for the Queen of Hearts,” she said. “And I would’ve been damn good at it too. But I was told I wasn’t fat enough. The role went to someone with less talent. As per usual.”

“I didn’t picture you as someone who actually had the courage to go out on the stage with other people watching,” the Doctor said, amused.

“I haven’t in a long time,” she admitted. “Doesn’t mean I don’t miss it.”

“Why don’t you anymore?” asked Alex.

She realized she’d said too much and smiled sadly. “My time has passed,” she said, vaguely. “I’ve made my exit, pursued by a bear. Or something like that.”

...

The Doctor came by later to pick up Alex's textbook to find Ginger still sprawled center stage marking things out of it. She'd insisted on meeting at the theatre again for reasons he could not understand.

"Well, this textbook is not _ nearly _as biased as I thought it would be," Ginger said, disappointed. "There was a lot more blatant propaganda in the American system, but I found some stuff to work with."

He flipped through the pages. "How do you know all this?" he asked, impressed.

She shrugged. "I read a lot. Watch a lot of documentaries. I get bored."

"You know what I noticed today?" the Doctor asked. "I think it's interesting that when you get upset you don't drop the accent. Most people putting on an accent revert back when they get emotional."

She shrugged again. "It never felt like my voice til I made it that way."

"What does that mean?"

She snapped out of it. "I've got to close this place down and head home. It's getting late." She got up to start doing just that.

"Hey Ginger?" Something about the Doctor's tone stopped her.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't mean to imply that you don't belong here. You do. You’re not...you’re not anything like that thing. I want you to know that."

"Get to know me a little,” she said, her voice soft and full of bitterness. “You might change your mind.”

“I’d like to,” he said, before he could stop himself. “Get to know you, I mean.”

She looked at him strangely. “Goodnight, Doctor,” she said, finally. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”


	9. All Dead, All Dead

**September 5th**

The Doctor received a phone call just as he was about to go fetch Alex.

“Hey Doc?” Alex said. “We might...uh...we might have to do a rain check.”

“Why?” the Doctor asked. “Everything alright?” He wouldn’t easily admit it, but he was slightly concerned. She’d never cancelled on him.

“Everything’s fine,” Alex replied. “Just my uncle’s in town and well…”

“Jack? He can come along too. He used to travel with me ages ago, he knows the drill.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really worried about that bit of it,” she admitted. “It’s more…”

“...More...What?” he prompted.

She sighed. “I just worry about Ginger.”

“Ginger?” This threw him off. “Why? What’s she got to do with it?”

“Well you know the way Jack is with, well...Everyone. I have a feeling she wouldn’t respond well to it. I just have this feeling about her that...Well, that something hurt her and Jack being Jack might not be what she needs to heal.”

He thought this over. “I’ve noticed that about her as well,” he admitted. “But that actually makes me more convinced than ever that Jack should come along.”

“Doctor-” she protested.

“I promise, if it starts looking like Ginger’s having a real problem with it, I’ll end the experiment, alright? We’ll hit the kill switch on the whole thing. Is that fair?”

She hesitated. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

…

The Doctor arrived on Bannerman Road, and Jack got straight to business.

“So I hear you’ve been taking my niece on adventures,” he said.

“You going to lecture me about that, Jack?” the Doctor asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I am worried that something will happen to her. She told me everything that’s been happening and you’ve put her in danger." Jack paused and looked down at his hands, fingers interlinked, and sighed. "But I’ve got to accept at this point that this is just her life and her decision. She’s almost an adult, after all,” he resigned. 

“I do try to keep her safe," the Doctor reassured him. 

“I know you do." He suddenly felt nostalgic for their old adventures."And it sounds like these trips have been educational. So I approve.” He smiled. 

“We’re actually doing something more fun today,” the Doctor said gleefully. “You should join us. We’re meeting an old friend of mine in the 80s.”

A slow grin spread across Jack’s face. “The 80s? I had some wild times in the 80s.”

“You must remember to _ never _tell us about them,” Alex said, entering the room. “We ready to go?”

“Yes, of course,” the Doctor said. “We’ve just got to stop off and pick up a friend first.”

…

When they entered the theatre, they found Ginger bickering with a director.

“But those costumes aren’t period appropriate _ at all _ ,” she complained. “They’re too form-fitting and the neckline is _ way _too low-”

“We’re making a creative choice,” the man pointed out. “Plus we’re on a budget. Nobody else will notice.”

“But-”

His body language made it apparent that he was getting frustrated with her. “Look, do you want my job? Do _ you _want to be the director?”

“What?” The suggestion startled her. “No, of course not. I mean I have some experience, but I really don’t need the responsibility-”

He interrupted her tangent. "Then just run the lights and stay in your lane. Do your job and I’ll do mine.” He walked away to confer with an actress, and Ginger stood there looking slightly put out.

The Doctor had never seen her look defeated, with her shoulders slumped like that; she normally stood up so straight. At this moment, she seemed smaller, somehow. Less formidable. Like whatever fire was inside her briefly flickered. 

He gathered himself and approached her. “Impressive attention to detail,” he commended her. “What time period is this supposed to be?”

His presence snapped her to attention, re-engaging her familiar persona in a blink of an eye. “Elizabethan,” she replied.

"Ah," he nodded. “You’re absolutely right about those necklines," he concurred, waving his hand dismissively "These costumes don’t match the period at all.”

She blinked, not quite sure how to respond. She wasn’t used to someone agreeing with her outright. “I know,” she huffed, opting to be as frigid as ever.

Ginger hadn’t noticed Jack and Alex yet and Alex took that opportunity to briefly fill Jack in. “You can’t flirt with her,” she commanded.

“What?” This startled him. “Why?”

“You just can’t. Just be like a normal person for once, alright?” Something about this intrigued Jack and he started moving toward the others. Alex groaned. “Seriously, Jack, _ don’t.” _She followed closely at his heels.

“Doctor,” Jack said as he reached them. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” He turned to Ginger with his trademark grin. He held out a hand to shake hers. “Hi, I’m Captain-” he stopped short. When his eyes met hers, he sensed a certain fear and hesitation in them that disconcerted him. There was pain there. Real pain. He altered his entire demeanor, dropping the flirtation along with his hand. “I’m Alex’s uncle. You can call me Jack. It’s nice to meet you.” He spoke softly as if trying not to startle her.

There was a brief moment of stunned silence where the two of them looked at each other awkwardly as the rest of the friends stared on, mouths agape. This was truly uncharacteristic behavior for Jack, especially in the presence of a pretty woman.

"_ They _call me Ginger," she said, nodding toward the Doctor and Alex. She hadn't intended to emphasize the word, but she had and didn't even notice.

"Is it okay if I call you Ginger as well?" asked Jack, picking up on it.

Ginger considered it for a moment while gazing at her feet. "Yeah," she finally grumbled, then looked back up defiantly. "If you promise to behave, you can call me Ginger."

"Ginger who?" he asked.

"Just Ginger," she said boldly but shifted uncomfortably.

“Interesting,” he said, kindly. “One name. Like a stage name. Like 'Madonna' or 'Cher' or 'Bono.'”

With this analogy, Ginger gave Jack an odd look. "Yeah, I guess," she said, finally. "I mean, I'll take the compliment even if they're not really my style."

"What _ is _your style?" Jack asked, with uncharacteristic sincerity.

She shrugged. "Punk rock, mostly.”

He could see that she was still uncomfortable and decided to try another tactic. “So are you a pianist or an actor?”

“Sorry?” she asked, startled.

“You’re classically trained in something, based on your posture,” he pointed out. “Somehow I doubt it’s dance or opera. You stand up _ very _straight for a non-royal.”

She was very thrown off by his skills of deduction. She replied gradually, “I’m not very good at piano, and I haven’t acted in a long time.”

He smiled, slowly, pointing. “So it’s both, is it? Definitely classically trained,” he clapped his hands together and beamed at uncovering this trivia "Instructors always drilling it into you to stand up straight. You don’t even notice you’re doing it, do you?”

The Doctor found himself becoming annoyed at being left out of the conversation. “She’s also an excellent Jazz singer.” She glared at him. “What? You _ are _!”

…

They arrived in London in the 80s, and the Doctor refused to reveal his plan. Instead, Ginger quizzed Jack. As far as she was concerned, any newcomers had to be thoroughly vetted.

"So you're, uh, you're Alex's uncle?" she asked, sizing him up. 

"Not my _ real _uncle," Alex said.

"Ouch," Jack teased. "That hurts!"

"I just mean I don't have one of those, but you're family anyway." She rolled her eyes, good-naturedly.

"I took her in for a bit when she was a younger," Jack explained. "I still keep in touch when I can.”

“What do you mean?” Ginger demanded. “What do you mean you 'took her in?'”

“She didn’t mention that she’s a foster kid?” Jack raised his eyebrows, evidently not noticing the way Alex’s eyes darkened at the mention of this fact.

This hit Ginger hard. “No. She didn’t.” She shook away these thoughts. “But you took her in? Why? What was in it for you?”

“Her parents put her in my care knowing that I care for her.”

That couldn't be all. “Some random kid who wasn’t yours? You had to have a motive.”

'Random kid?' Alex went on the defense. “What _ proof _ are you interrogating him for, Ginger?” asked Alex. “He was good to me. Whatever you’re trying to convince yourself of, Jack’s not like that.”

“But you say you 'took her in for a bit'?” Ginger demanded. “You gave her up?”

He faltered at her accusatory tone. “When it got too dangerous for her, yes.”

“Oh, so it was for her own good,” Ginger said, dryly. “And you say you 'keep in touch' when you can? How very absentee of you.”

“Ginger, drop it, okay?” Alex snapped. And out of respect for Alex, she did.

The Doctor, eager to break up the emotional atmosphere, hoped to return his friends to the task at hand. He strolled up to a house and knocked at the door. "Brian's an old friend of mine," he explained to the others. "Brilliant astrophysicist," he emphasized. "Traveled with me a few times. Just...try to be cool. Don't...gawk or anything." He looked pointedly at Ginger.

Ginger was immediately defensive. "Why would I gawk?"

Just then the door opened, and Ginger and Jack both felt their jaws drop involuntarily.

“Doctor!” the curly-haired gentleman exclaimed, ecstatically. “What a lovely surprise!” He noticed the Doctor's friends. “New companions?”

They all spoke at once.

“Old companion,” Jack corrected. “Long story.’

“Fake daughter, long story,” Alex replied, not sure why the others were having a reaction to this stranger. “Hopeful companion in training though.”

“Absolutely not, never,” scoffed Ginger.

“Well whoever you are,” the Doctor’s friend said. “You _ must _come in for tea! We’ll have to be quick - we’ve got a big show tomorrow! But then you knew that! The entire world will be watching this one. We’ve got to rehearse in an hour.”

The man left them in the sitting room while he made the tea.

Ginger immediately turned to the Doctor. “That’s Brian May.”

"Yes, I told you that."

"_ The _Brian May," added Jack.

"Again, a fact that has been well established."

“Who’s Brian May?” asked Alex, ignoring the scandalized looks from Ginger and Jack.

"Brian May from the band Queen!” Ginger exclaimed, trying to stifle her volume unsuccessfully. She turned an accusatory eye to the Doctor. “You didn't say you were friends with the band Queen!"

"Well, now, not all of them," the Doctor said. "Just Brian. He used to travel with me a bit ages ago. Just a few times. Got him really hooked on astrophysics."

"Doctor, that's _ Brian May!" _

He was so amused now. "Cool, huh?"

She gave him a look of incredulous disbelief. "_ Beyond, _I'd say." Then her eyes widened. "Doctor, what did you say today's date was?"

"Middle of July, I think?" the Doctor replied.

Ginger was trying so hard to be patient. "Middle of July. What. Year."

"Oh! 1985."

She exhaled slowly. "Doctor, it wouldn't happen to be 12th July, 1985. Would it?"

"Could be."

Ginger lost the ability to function again. "Oh my God. _ Oh my God." _

"I’m confused,” Alex said. “Why is that date important?”

"Because tomorrow is _ Live Aid _ , _ " _she managed to croak, her voice failing her. “That’s why he said the whole world would be watching.”

The Doctor smirked. “I told you I’d take us somewhere fun.”

Jack's eyes widened too. "Doctor, you brought us down here for Live Aid? I could kiss you!"

"No you couldn't," the Doctor chided him.

"What's Live Aid?" Alex asked.

Ginger and Jack replied at the same time.

"The greatest concert in the history of rock music!" she exclaimed.

"The greatest concert of all time!" Jack said.

Ginger looked at him then with an odd look on her face. "You're right, I like your explanation better." She turned back to the Doctor then. "We can go, right? Please? We don't have to go to all of the other shows - though I'd really like to - I just want to see Queen!" She looked at Alex again. "Queen's performance at Live Aid is the one considered to be the greatest performance of all time." Then back to the Doctor. "Please please please, can we go?"

The Doctor and Alex were both slightly shocked yet amused at how excited Ginger was. After all, it was extremely hard to get her to admit to being enthusiastic about anything.

"Come on, Doctor," Jack said. "You know you want to."

A slow grin spread across his face. "Alright, we can go."

Alex, Ginger, and Jack all cheered.

Brian May reentered the room. “I’ve just had an idea,” he said. “Do you lot want to come out to our rehearsal? I can also get you backstage for the show.”

…

"Hope you don't mind, I brought some friends along tonight," Brian said to the rest of the band as they arrived at Freddie's house. "They're not going to be in town long, thought I'd bring 'em by."

"The more the merrier," Freddie said.

Ginger was a bit starstruck. "It's so cool to actually meet you," she said to him. "I wish I had something...cooler to say."

"What about a name, luv?" Freddie asked.

"Oh, right, uh...Ginger."

"And what are your names?" he looked to the others.

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Alex."

Freddie turned his eyes to his last guest. "And who might you be? Don't I get a hello from you?"

Jack flashed one of his trademark grins. "Captain Jack Harkness," he shook his hand, making lingering eye contact.

"Ooooh are these the cats?" Ginger squealed as two came in the room. "Please tell me their names right now immediately."

...

They stuck around after the rehearsal to hear Freddie tell amusing stories.

"And that was just the last straw for me. Recording with Michael Jackson was an absolute dream, but I just couldn't continue under those conditions."

"Because of the llama?" Alex asked.

"Would you want to record with a llama hanging around?" Freddie asked.

"Suppose not," Alex replied with a grin.

"I've heard some interesting rumors about you and Princess Di that I hope you could clear up?" Ginger said, in a rush to be part of the conversation.

The Doctor coughed, pointedly. "This is 1985," he whispered. "That doesn't happen til '88."

"Oh," Ginger said. "Never mind then."

"Who's up for more drinks?" Roger Taylor asked.

"Think Jim's supposed to be stopping by any minute now," Freddie added.

More chatter and music carried on and Jack noticed Ginger sizing him up.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm just...wondering something," she mused.

He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

She smirked. "I'm not usually this delicate when asking this, but it's the 80s and I don't want to lose the opportunity. Are you..." She lowered her voice to a whisper that only she, Jack, Alex, and the Doctor could hear. "A Friend of Dorothy?"

There was a moment where a slow grin spread over his face. "Yeah, I know her," Jack replied. "I'm not exclusive though. Friends with a lot of people."

She nodded, leaning back in her seat with satisfaction. "I thought so."

"You know Dorothy?" Jack asked.

"Not personally," Ginger replied. "Not really friends with anyone. Bit solitary, me."

"What is happenin' here?" Alex asked, picking up on some kind of covert language.

"Nothing, kid," Jack said. "We'll tell you when you're older."

"Who's Dorothy?" the Doctor asked.

Ginger and Jack exchanged a glance and started laughing.

"Nobody," Ginger replied. "Try as they might, the military never found her."

"You've been alive how long and you've never heard that term before?" Jack teased.

Ginger leaned over to him and stage-whispered: “He’s so out of touch, isn’t he?” Evidently somewhere along the line, Ginger had decided she rather liked Jack. It was easy to tell that she was feeling more at ease with him. The Doctor didn’t know why this annoyed him so much.

Jack grinned. “You know, from what Alex told me about you, I thought you might be a little uptight and we might not get along. And I’ll admit it was touch and go there for a minute. But you’re alright.” He turned to the Doctor. “I like your new companion. She’s funny.”

“Companion?” Ginger scoffed, offended by this term. “I’m not his or anyone else’s companion.”

“I just meant that you travel with him, is all,” Jack apologized. “I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“I don’t really travel with him either,” Ginger replied. “This is only the second time I’ve agreed to go on one of these trips. Really, I hardly know him.”

“Well I hope you’ll come on more,” Jack said. 

The Doctor got tired of not being included in the conversation. "You know, Ginger is a really good singer!" the Doctor said loudly, prompting Ginger's mouth to fall open in angry disbelief. "And she's practically your biggest fan! Think we can get her to sing for us?"

"No I don't think-" Ginger protested.

"Sing!" Jack shouted. He started leading the rest of the room in a chant of: "Sing! Sing! Sing!"

"I don't know," Ginger said, self-consciously. “I don’t really sing in front of people anymore.”

"I'd like to hear you sing," Freddie Mercury said.

Ginger giggled, the weirdness of the situation hitting her. "No you wouldn't. I'm not nearly as good as you are."

"Just a little one?" he asked.

She caved slowly to peer pressure. "Okay," she conceded. "Only because I can't say no to Freddie Mercury. Do we have some music?"

"We can play along!" Roger Taylor said.

Ginger laughed again. "Wow okay, what should I sing?"

"Anything you like," Freddie said.

"Oh wow, that's a lot of pressure," she said, biting her lip. "Oooh 'Under Pressure'? No no, I could never do that one justice. What about-"

"Pick something they would've written before 1985," the Doctor said, almost as if he'd read her mind.

"You're right, of course," she exclaimed. 

“What about ‘Killer Queen’?” Jack offered.

“I could do ‘Killer Queen’,” Ginger considered.

“Think you’ve got the range, darling?” Freddie asked, slightly amused.

“I might not have _ your _ range, because nobody does,” Ginger shot back with a grin. “But I have _ some _range. Actually, that’s a good point. I’ve changed my mind. Let’s do ‘All Dead, All Dead.’”

“Surprised you know that one,” said Brian.

“It’s one of my favorites,” she admitted.

...

Jack and Freddie continued to flirt a bit, but Freddie was more subdued about it while Jim was around. They were rather a lovely couple, and Jim did appear understandably nervous by Jack's presence this early in their relationship.

"Listen, fellas," Jack said to them, later on in the night. "I don't want to pass up an opportunity like this one, but I'm not going to be the one to break up the most iconic gay couple in human history. I'm not a homewrecker. On purpose, anyway. So I'll make you a deal: Either I do both of you, or neither of you. One night only, I'm gone after Live Aid."

"Are you serious?" Jim Hutton asked.

Jack shrugged. "It would be my honor. Then you'll never hear from me again. Think about it."

He walked away and noticed that the others had heard this exchange. Alex was the first to speak.

"Uh...You know I don't want to have to be the one to talk about this with you, but...Didn't they both famously have AIDS? You sure that's safe?"

"It's true that in the 80s they hadn't made the advancements in medicine that enabled HIV positive people to have healthy sex-lives without fear of infection," Jack conceded. "But if there's one thing I learned living through the 80s the first time it's always wear a condom."

"Plus," Ginger interjected. "The AIDS diagnoses didn't come until years later for them. They're most likely clean. But yeah, wear a condom anyway, will ya?" She made a face. "God, I don't wanna be talking about this either."

And that's the story of how Jack Harkness spent the night with Freddie Mercury and Jim Hutton the night before Live Aid. Of course the Doctor, Ginger, and Alex didn't wait around that long - preferring instead just to skip the extra time and meet up with them all at the event.

...

Live Aid was just as amazing as they knew it would be.

Alex and Jack were too busy cheering, making the Doctor the only one who noticed just how happy Ginger seemed during Queen's set. She'd remark later that she wished they would've played a few more songs, but she was actually very happy with the ones they did play. There was a particular moment during "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" where the Doctor had the thought that he'd never seen her look so completely free of worry. She'd closed her eyes and was just allowing herself to dance and sing like nobody was watching. And nobody was. Except for him.

He blinked and forced himself to look away. He realized she probably like the anonymity of this crowd. It would kind of be an invasion of her private moment to keep looking at her when everyone else was looking to the stage.

…

“This was so cool,” Alex said as they made their way backstage. 

“You remember when I used to make you listen to Queen when you were little?” Jack asked her.

“I do,” she smiled at him fondly. “Some of my best memories were us all listening to Queen.” Her eyes misted over.

Ginger raised her eyebrows. "You like Queen so much but you didn't know who Brian May was?"

"Maybe I'm not a _super _fan, but I do like the band," she shot back.

“What about you, Ginger?” the Doctor asked. “Why are you such a big fan?”

“I like the drama,” she deflected, corners of her mouth twitching into a smile. “The magic. The theatrics.”

“Come on,” Jack pressed. “What is it about them that got to you?”

She took a deep breath and considered how to answer. “It was a long time ago, when I was a kid,” she finally admitted. “I had a theatre teacher who...Well, let’s just say he was eccentric. He used to listen to a lot of Queen and B-52’s. I always said I’d never end up being like him, but...I remind myself of him sometimes. A lot today, actually.” She smiled to herself, and it was the first time the Doctor had ever seen her look nostalgic about something. “He’s definitely the reason I get so bent out of shape about accuracy.”

Jack found that he had something he wanted to say. “Ginger, you really are a great performer. Rusty, sure, but then you were on the spot and hadn’t warmed up. It’s clear that you love performing. I don’t think you should give up on doing that.”

“Thank you, Jack,” she said, sadly. “But my time in the spotlight...Well, it’s past. If I keep thinking about it, I’ll just go all Norma Desmond.”

Jack was surprised at the classic film reference. “You and I are going to be good friends, I can feel it.”

...

Ginger and Alex had lingered behind to say one last goodbye to Freddie Mercury's cats while Jack and the Doctor had time to themselves on the TARDIS.

“Have something on your mind, Doctor?” Jack asked, noticing that he seemed to be deep in thought.

The Doctor snapped back to the present. “Did you hear what Alex said before? The whole hopeful companion in training thing?”

Jack sighed. “Yeah, I did. But she’s just a kid, Doctor, you can’t blame her.”

“I don’t. I sort of blame myself for it. I mean, she needs to have a life. A real one. One that I don’t monopolize.”

“That’s the same thing I always said,” replied Jack, with a wry smile. “She’ll get over it, though. Like I said, she’s still young.”

“You don’t think I need to have a talk with her?”

“If it got out of hand, sure. But I think she’s still pretty sensible. Always has been.”

“About that. I did actually want to talk to you about her. You don’t think she’s...sort of odd sometimes?”

“She grew up in our world, Doctor. I think she was bound to be a bit odd.”

“Yeah, but I mean...Does she ever say just the strangest things to you? And I don’t mean the trauma stuff, that’s perfectly natural and expected. She just says things sometimes that are really on point. Stuff you hadn’t even realized before she said it. She just knows things she shouldn’t.”

“She’s always been good at reading people,” admitted Jack.

“You don’t think it’s more than that?”

"I do sometimes," said Jack, seriously. "But more importantly...Doctor, who is Ginger? There's something a bit off about her too, isn't there? She has that same look in her eyes. The one I see in yours. The one I see every time I look in the mirror. She’s haunted by something."

"I've often thought the same thing," the Doctor mused, consciously avoiding the question.

"You know I never asked what happened to Rose. After all of that...Well, I figured maybe she lived out her natural life. It happens when you fall for humans - they wither and die. How long's it been in your time since the Dalek Invasion? A few decades?"

"No," he said, still trying to seem upbeat. "Months, maybe. It had been a few months when I met Alex for the first time, and now it's been some more...Haven't put that much distance there."

"Oh," Jack said. "My condolences. I understand. Torchwood sort of...blew up. Most of my friends died as well. But I've had years to grieve-"

"What's to grieve about? She's safe and alive in a parallel world - most likely happy."

Jack took a second to process this. "Doesn't mean you're not still grieving. You know, I get it. At first being immortal seems like fun - you can't get hurt...but the longer it goes on, you learn that you absolutely can. After a while, being immortal starts to feel like you're perpetually in mourning over someone. As soon as you move on from one of them, there's just another one waiting to drop."

"But doesn't all this make it worse?" the Doctor asked. "I mean, you just spent the night doing presumably unspeakable things with two people that you know are going to die in agony. Isn't it better to just...move along? Not get attached?"

Jack smiled sadly. "I don't think you can help but get attached. It's what gives life meaning. Even just brief moments of connection make life worth something. I know it was like that for Rose."

Just then, Ginger and Alex returned.

"What's wrong?" the Doctor asked.

"I just remembered again what happened to Freddie Mercury." She looked at the Doctor then. "He was so nice, and he just has to suffer like that?"

"It's a fixed point in history," the Doctor said. "Nothing to be done."

"He died of AIDS, didn't he?" Alex groaned, as if just realizing it herself. "God that's...that has to be horrible."

"I always say that people like Thatcher and Reagan killed him," Jack said. "Their intolerance led to so many people dying during the AIDS crisis."

"I just feel like we should do something," Ginger said, as if her skin were crawling. "I mean it's not even like we're much better at treating people HIV in the 21st century! I was just reading the other day that the British government doesn't want to give public funds to getting PrEP to people who need it so there's a shortage of the pills when they SHOULD just be readily available. Attitudes haven't changed. People STILL see it as a punishment for a moral failing and refuse to offer empathy. So I want to _do _something!"

"We could go around to AIDS hospitals like Diana and Margaret did?" Jack suggested.

"No I was thinking more...political," Ginger said. "Maybe go to a protest or a die-in?"

"Oh of course," Alex said, turning to Jack. "Ginger never feels satisfied unless she can protest."

"There were a couple big protests for gay rights and some major die-ins during the late 80s and early 90s," Ginger pressed, ignoring her.

"What's a die-in?" Alex asked.

"It's where you lie down and pretend to be dead as a form of protest," the Doctor explained. "It was really effective in getting the US government to respond to the AIDS epidemic."

Alex decided then. "Well I'd like to go," she said. "Can we go?"

The Doctor looked at Jack, who briefly nodded. "We can go," he said. "What’s a Saturday night without sticking it to Reagan?" 

“Anyone else feel like he sort of stole Ginger’s line?” Alex asked.

She shrugged. “I’m cool with it, as long as he acknowledges that I’m the _ real _rebel queen here.”

...

They attended a particularly grueling die-in, and just as it was winding down Ginger turned to the group with a new-found fury.

"I'm going to punch him in the face."

"Who?" said Alex, Jack, and the Doctor in unison.

"Ronald Reagan," she spat. "I'm going to find him and I'm going to punch him in the face."

"I'm with you there!" Jack said.

"Hold on, now," the Doctor placated. "We can't go round trying to punch presidents of the United States."

"His administration exacerbated this crisis," Ginger replied. "He deserves worse. I simply want to punch him in the face."

"I'll hold him down as long as I get a punch in too!" Jack said.

"It's not a good idea!" the Doctor cautioned. "I know you're both upset, but the secret service will shoot you down!"

"So?" Jack sulked. "I'm going to live forever anyway!"

"The two of you are getting along far too well," the Doctor said, exasperated. "It's weird."

"Yeah well, I like to feel like there's a little bit of justice in this world," Ginger rolled her eyes. "If I must become that vigilante and punch old bigots, so be it."

"I know something that might make you feel better," the Doctor said.

"What's that?"

"HW Bush dies on World AIDS Day 2018."

Ginger considered this. "Yeah that does make me feel a bit better, weirdly. It's sort of...Poetic."

“Who’s HW Bush?” asked Alex.

“He was Vice President under Reagan,” Jack explained. “Became President for a while.”

“His son was George W,” Ginger added.

“Oh that makes sense,” Alex nodded. “Fuck that guy.”

The Doctor noted how ragged his friends all seemed to be and began punching coordinates into the TARDIS. 

“Where are we going now?” Ginger asked.

“I’m taking you all home,” he explained. “Been a long night. When can we meet up again?”

“I’ve got Thursday open,” Ginger proposed.

"Guys?" Alex asked, nerves almost overpowering her. Nobody heard her. “Guys?” She said, louder.

"Yes, Alex?" the Doctor asked.

"I was just...I've been thinkin' somethin' lately and..." She swallowed. "Now seems like the best time to say it out loud. I don't know why I'm so nervous, I don't think you'll actually be mad."

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"Well, I..." She swallowed again. "Think I might...Actually, I know I am. I'm, well, I'm gay. A lesbian, I guess, if that's what you call it? It sounds weird to say."

"Oh," the Doctor said.

"I mean, we knew," Jack said. "But I'm proud of you for saying it. I know it's scary to admit in this century."

"You knew?" Alex asked, glancing between all of them.

"I didn’t,” the Doctor said. “But only because I never really thought about it. Gender’s not really a thing on my planet. I forget these human things until they’re brought up.”

“Ginger,” Alex said. “You’re being quiet.”

“Don’t really have much to say,” she shrugged. “It makes sense, though. I’ve noticed the way you’ve looked at some of the girls in their costumes before you quickly look away. Subtle, but a red flag if you know what to look for.”

Jack smirked at Ginger. "You sure you're not also a friend of Dorothy?"

"Never said I wasn't," she rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, though, what's the thing with Dorothy?" Alex asked. "I'm really curious now."

"It's old-fashioned slang for being gay," Jack laughed. "It's from the Wizard of Oz. It's code so you can tell if someone's gay without alerting straight people that you are."

"And you're friends with Dorothy?" the Doctor asked, turning to Ginger.

"Doctor, you know I don't have friends," Ginger replied.

"We're all very proud of you, Alex," Jack said, reminding them to stay on track with the conversation.

"Very proud," the Doctor agreed.

…

The Doctor dropped Alex and Jack off first and was about to take Ginger home when she stopped him.

“Wait,” she said. “I’ve just gotta...Just wait here, will you?”

“Where are you going?” he asked as she rushed out the door.

“Alex!” Ginger shouted. She’d been just in time - Alex was about to go inside the house. Jack had already disappeared inside.

The teenager turned around, startled. “Sorry, did I forget something?”

“No, just...I have something I want to say to you.” She paused, gathering her nerves. “I didn’t...I didn’t react the way I wish I did. And I don’t want you coming away from this thinking that I’m uncomfortable or anything. It’s more...People aren’t that brave where I come from. People tend to get seriously hurt for even being suspected of…” She swallowed hard. “The Doctor and Jack might’ve been a bit oblivious to how hard this is for you. Jack understands more because he’s seen it first hand, I don’t doubt, but he’s still insulated, I guess, from the way he acts. Like it’s a default fact or something. It _ is _very brave of you to come out, and I’m glad you chose us. I’m honored, actually. And I won’t share it with anyone - not least of all because I have no one to share it with. People aren’t that brave where I come from. So I admire you for being so young and knowing already who you are.”

Alex was moved by this speech, but tried not to show it. “Ginger, I’m 17. I don’t really know myself at all. I’m confused all the time. This is probably the one thing I’m actually sure about.”

Ginger smiled, uncharacteristically kindly. “Well I’m never sure of anything, so you’ve got one up on me.” She gathered herself. “And how long has the Doctor been listening to all of this?”

He poked his head around the side of the door. “Pretty much the whole time,” he admitted. “But it was a nice thing to say.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not nice,” she snapped at him, crossing her arms sullenly. “I resent that.”

...

She stepped inside the TARDIS and waited by the door.

"So back to the theatre, then?" the Doctor asked. "You know, I wouldn't mind dropping you off at home-"

She looked at him sternly. "The theatre is fine."

He flipped a switch then paused, deciding how to word the question he had. "I'm a little surprised, if I'm being honest."

"About what?"

"When you talked about this theatre teacher...I didn't think you trusted men at all. As a default. But you seem to have fond memories there."

She nodded, but didn't really look at him. "He was an odd one, but harmless," she admitted. "Always thought maybe he knew Dorothy." She added, pointedly. "Actually, Jack sort of reminds me of him. Except Jack is WAY more shameless about it and less dithering."

...

"I overheard you talking," Alex said to Jack later that night. "Didn't hear all of it but...you seemed sad. Talking about someone called Rose? I've heard him accidentally say the name before...Who was she?"

Jack thought how best to tackle this topic. "She was a good friend of mine," Jack said. "It's not really my place to say and I really wouldn't bring it up with him but...She and the Doctor were in love."

"Was she a Time Lord too? Guess she'd have to be some kind of super-genius to keep up with him."

Jack chuckled, nostalgically. "No, she was 100% human. You know how the Doctor likes his human girls. And she was brilliant, really...but not a genius. She was a bit self-conscious about the fact that she never finished school and worked in a shop."

"And she's gone now?"

"Yeah. But like I said, I wouldn't bring it up."


	10. Plasters

**September 10th**

Alex arrived home that Thursday evening to find that someone had dropped by for a surprise visit.

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you, Wild Card?” 

“Luke!” Alex exclaimed, beyond overjoyed that her friend was there. She ran to him at once, hugging him in the middle of the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

“You said on the phone last week that you wanted to talk to me about something,” he replied, simply. “Something that _ shouldn’t _ be said on the phone but _ could _wait for a better time.” He pulled back. “Curiosity got the better of me. I had to come home as soon as I could to see what cryptic mysteries Alex Mitchell has for me.”

“Whatever it is will have to wait,” Sarah Jane smiled, bustling into the room. “I believe our supper is almost ready. Why don’t you two go wash up and meet me back here?”

…

“Jack didn’t want to come in today?” Sarah Jane asked while putting plates on the table. 

“He was a bit tired,” Alex admitted. “Can’t blame him, really. Long day.”

“What have you been getting up to?” Sky asked brightly. “What adventures did you have with the Doctor today?” 

“Not much to report, really,” she shrugged. “Went to Germany.”

“Germany?” Luke repeated. “Never been to Germany.”

“Met Freud,” she said, in an off-hand sort of way.

“Freud?” Sarah Jane repeated as she sat down opposite Alex. “I bet that was fascinating. What did he have to say?”

“He was a bit of a jerk, honestly,” Alex replied. “Sigmund _ Fraud _, more like. Dunno what that bloke did to be deserving of his reputation.”

…

After dinner, the kids all began helping Sarah Jane clear up.

“Why don’t you let me finish this?” Sarah Jane smiled at them. “You kids can finish catching up. Luke hasn’t been home in almost a month, you could use it.”

“Good idea,” said Alex, suddenly nervous even though she knew she had no reason to be. 

Luke smiled at her then turned to his mother. “Actually, I think Alex and I should go for a walk. It’s a nice night out there.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Sarah Jane. “Don’t be too long, though.”

…

“So do you want to tell me what this is all about, Alex?” Luke asked, once they’d gotten a safe distance from the house. 

“That was a very grown-up thing to say,” Alex dodged the question. “Sounded _ very _adult-like. I remember how awkward you were even just a year ago, but now you’re all…” She looked up at him and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Luke.”

“Me too,” he replied. “You know, you always were my favorite of my sister’s friends. Felt almost like another sister to me.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, a sister you keep all the alien-related family secrets from?”

“The more literature I read, the more I’m starting to think you just described a normal family,” he smiled back. “Not telling the kid sister vital information in an effort to protect her...Well, that seems very normal.” They walked on in silence for another moment. “Alright,” he said, finally. “You don’t have to start with what you actually want to talk to me about. Why don’t you tell me about your day? What’s it like travelling with the Doctor?”

She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him, putting her hands on her hips. “There it is!” she exclaimed in amusement.

“There...what is?” Luke asked, perplexed by her sudden change. He stopped as well.

“That note of envy,” she insisted. “I hear it a lot from Sky too. It’s _ barely _ there because you’re both so happy I get to do this and so eager to hear stories, but you _ do _feel a little left out not being allowed to go.”

“I think that’s natural, Alex.” Luke didn’t even try to deny it. “But that doesn’t mean we’re angry with you or resent your opportunity. You deserve something nice that’s just for you.”

“But it doesn’t have to be,” Alex insisted. “Why can’t you come travel with us sometime?”

“If I can work it around my class schedule-”

“Luke, it’s a time machine-”

“Alex, if the opportunity arises, you know we’d love to,” said Luke. “But we know this is something special for you that you need right now. We’re not going to try to crowd you.”

She was surprised by this response even after she’d pressed so hard to get it. She turned away and began walking again. He followed alongside her. “So you want to hear about my day?” she asked him.

“I’d love to hear all about it,” said he.

She wondered where to begin. “Well, it all started with Ginger and the Doctor arguing again.” She noticed the mystified look on his face. “Ginger’s the new...I was going to say companion, but she’d hate that. Doesn’t _ really _want to be associated with that whole scene.”

“Why not?” Luke asked.

Alex shrugged. “Beats me,” she admitted. “Honestly, I think she’s just sort of sad and scared all the time, but she won’t tell any of us why. Just sort of shouts to keep people at a distance.”

“That’s very perceptive of you,” said Luke.

“I guess,” she replied. “But anyway, she and the Doctor fight a lot. It’s sort of annoying. Like they _ like _each other, that’s clear to anyone who sees them together. But she has this thing about being sort of bossy and wanting to be right all the time, and he’s got this thing about trying to figure out what her deal is...It’s sort of like the more he tries to get inside her head, the more she shuts him out. They’re a pair of sad nerds who don’t want to like each other...And it leads to situations like this.”

“Situations like what?” Luke pressed.

…

They met up at the theatre again. Ginger managed to get a bit of a lesson in that day since the rehearsal mostly demanding her attention.

"So where to?" Ginger asked as they readied themselves to leave. "We could go join the American civil rights movement or go on a tour of the origins of Riot Girl or-"

"Or we could go somewhere that you haven't prepared an opinion on," the Doctor cut in.

This stopped her in her tracks. Her eyes narrowed. "Like where?"

"We could go to another planet, if you want a suggestion."

She considered this option, being sorely tempted. All she'd ever wanted as a kid was to leave this cesspool of a planet, but she felt hesitation now. "I think I'll keep my feet firmly on the ground for now," she asserted. "Besides, then you'd get to be Mr. Know-It-All."

"Ah so you admit that you only want to travel to places that make you sound smart?" he teased.

She couldn't immediately think of a retort, so she just fumed for a moment. "I...I don't need to sound smart."

Jack leaned over to mutter to Alex. "Do we actually get any say?"

"It's better not to interfere with their process," Alex said in a hushed tone. "That would just make it take longer. Let them hash it out and at some point they'll remember they're not the only ones left in the universe."

"You don't need to sound smart?" the Doctor was asking. The two of them were totally oblivious to Jack and Alex’s whispered conversation.

"No, that's right, I have nothing to prove!" was Ginger's retort.

"So prove that, then," the Doctor replied. "Let go for just a little while and just enjoy a trip."

"Well if I'm going to do that, then so will you!" she said, crossing her leather-clad arms.

"How?" he asked.

She groaned. "I don't know!" Then she seemed to land on an idea. She reached in her pocket and fished out the iPod the Doctor had given her. "Put it on Shuffle!"

"Shuffle?" he asked, totally stumped.

"Yeah! There's a shuffle button on my TARDIS, shouldn't there be one on yours?"

…

“Wait, wait, I’m confused,” cut in Luke. “She has her own TARDIS? Is she, y’know, like him?”

Alex blinked and then busted out laughing at the implication. “Sorry, I should’ve explained. Her TARDIS is the name of the iPod the Doctor gave to her. A little blue shuffle. See the joke is that it’s a little blue box that’s bigger on the inside.”

“That’s clever,” Luke had to admit.

“Someone really needs to call Doc and Ginger out on all this” Alex continued, smiling to herself. “I mean he literally gave her an expensive gift the first time they met and somehow I’m supposed to think he _ doesn’t _like her. And she’s always saying how much she hates capitalism and brands and expensive things and Apple, but she carries the damn thing with her! Somehow we’re supposed to think she doesn’t like him? Oh and to answer your other question, Luke: She’s not an alien, she’s just weird.” 

...

"Look, it's simple," Ginger said. "Set the TARDIS to pick a random place in space-time and take us there. Then we can both prove that we don't have to have a plan and we can exist with spontaneity."

"I don't-" the Doctor was regretting his earlier teasing.

Ginger silenced him by raising her eyebrows. "This was your idea," she reminded him. "In the immortal words of my true love, Dark Helmet: What's the matter, Colonel Sandurz? Chicken?"

There was a moment of tense silence while the Doctor debated this.

"Alright, fine," he conceded.

"Fine?"

"Brilliant, in fact. If it's good with you."

"Course it is, it was my idea! Molto bene!"

"Hey that's my line!" the Doctor said, put out a bit by that.

"Whose line is it anyway? I thought we already talked about a man with an English accent trying to claim other languages as his line."

"Are you trying to tell me that you speak Italian?"

"No, mostly just old-school Latin…”

Ginger and the Doctor started taking off towards the exit.

"See, I told you they'd sort it out," Alex said to Jack. "They always do."

She and Jack hung behind them a few paces, because they didn't want to get caught in the whirlwind of banter whipping up around them.

"Wait, what's this thing about Dark Helmet being your true love?" the Doctor teased.

"I always relate to Rick Moranis characters," Ginger shrugged. "They're dopey and relatable."

…

“Wait, is she talking about Spaceballs?” Luke asked.

Alex shrugged. “I honestly have no idea _ what _she’s talking about, most of the time.”

“They showed that film at our student centre,” Luke explained. “It was really funny. We should watch it sometime.”

“So _ anyway _,” Alex said, getting back on track. “We made it to pre-World War I Germany. It was...boring, honestly. Nothing much was going on…”

…

"Hey Ginger?" the Doctor asked, teasingly.

She sighed. "What?"

"You still feeling Underjoyed?"

…

“I have a feeling that Underjoyed is another one of their weird inside jokes,” Alex rolled her eyes. “Like I said, I never know what the hell they’re talkin’ about.”

...

"It's a permanent state of being,” Ginger replied, crossing her arms. “Though you do exacerbate matters slightly."

"Well I might be the Doctor, but I think I found you a specialist."

…

“Was it Sigmund Freud?” asked Luke.

She nodded. “It was Sigmund Freud.”

…

Freud wasn't in his office when they broke in, so they just began exploring on their own.

The Doctor took the natural role of lookout as Ginger, Jack, and Alex began rifling through Freud's things.

…

“Wait, you broke into Freud’s office?” asked Luke.

“It was Ginger’s idea,” Alex replied. “She’s always pulling stunts like that.”

“But the Doctor went along with it?”

“She’s sort of a...bad influence on all of us.”

...

"For the office of someone so famous, these notes are all super boring," Alex complained, holding up a paper she'd found.

"What are you doing looking at papers?" Ginger asked. "Freud was a hack, help me find his drugs."

"His drugs?" the Doctor repeated, in disbelief.

Ginger noticed how they'd all come to a stop to stare at her and rolled her eyes. "Oh come on. Be grownups. I don't want his coke, but he's got to at least have some weed around here somewhere. I haven't gotten high since I was Alex's age and I intend to liberate some harmless drugs from him if I can."

"You used to get high?" Jack asked, amused. "Wouldn't've pegged you for the type to let loose like that."

"You trying to tell me you've never lit up?" Ginger asked him, raising her eyebrows. "Like, okay, Alex and Doc are way too uptight to get high on purpose, but you've got to have tried something at some point."

"Once or twice," he admitted. “And you…?”

"I don't think I was sober for much of my teen years, to be honest," she said.

"Hey!" the Doctor said, wanting to be included. "I've experimented once or twice when I was young too!" They all raised their eyebrows at him. "Which...Alex should obviously not do, so we should stop talking about it."

Ginger's eyes fell on the sofa that patients were meant to lie on, and decided to lay herself down on it as if languishing. "Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doc - do you believe in the aliens?" she sang, teasingly.

"First of all, that's not the right lyrics, though I get how it would sound that way," he replied, amused. "Second, how do you know that song? Thought you were from 2015."

She looked at him quizzically again. "I am," she replied. "It was on the iPod you gave me." Then her eyes widened and she say upright. "Wait. Did you...You loaded this up with...FUTURE MUSIC?"

He looked pleased with himself. "Took you long enough to notice."

"Woah," she grinned. "It's like a sneak peak, I dig it."

"You dig it?" Jack asked. It was his turn to tease now. "What decade did you say you were from again?"

"Wait, what's the lyric if she's not saying doctor?" Ginger wondered aloud. "Never mind, I like my lyric better."

"You know an awful lot of songs about being queen for someone who is anti-establishment," the Doctor said, ignoring Jack. "Queen of Pain, Killer Queen, Queen Universe, Saline the Salt Lake Queen..."

"When I am Queen, Snow White Queen, Bank of Boston Beauty Queen, Queen of Peace..." she continued listing. "Yeah, suppose I do." She decided to lay back dramatically on the seat again to quote the song again. "Maybe maybe maybe maybe you should believe in the aliens!"

"Excuse me?" a voice said from the doorway. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my office?"

Jack sprang to action first. "Sorry to intrude, Mr Freud. I'm Captain Jack Harkness," he said, coming forward to shake his hand as he thought up an excuse. "We're with the police. There were reports of office break ins and I arrived just in time to find these people going through your things. Was just about to take them back to my police box to arrest them."

"And as I was explaining, we were waiting for him to return!" the Doctor took the bait running. "It's an honor to meet you, Dr Freud. I'm Doctor Smith, and this young lady is my secretary..." He realized he'd never heard anyone call her anything but 'Alex'. Was that just a short nickname or was that the full version of the name? He made a guess. "Alexandra." He ignored the quizzical looks from Alex and Jack.

"And the young lady on my lounge chair?" Freud asked.

"Oh her?" the Doctor said. "I specialize in psychosis and she's my case study. I brought her for your expertise. She's the Queen of the Universe."

Ginger was mildly ticked off and used that to cover her amusement at the introduction. She decided to use this as an acting opportunity by latching onto another one of the future songs the Doctor had put on her playlist.

"The Doctor tells me I'm connected to the weather," she said, slipping into a bad imitation of a cockney accent. Alex had to try very hard not to fall into fits of laughter.

"She's English?" Freud asked.

"Only if it suits her," the Doctor responded.

"I rather think it doesn't," Alex giggled.

"I don't Adam and Eve this!" Ginger grinned, earning more groans and laughter from Alex.

"I haven't got time for this," Dr. Freud said, turning back to Jack. "They're free to go, if they wish. But you say you're with the police?"

"That's right," Jack replied.

"That's good, because I require police protection," Freud said. "My life is in danger."

This dramatic declaration was broken by Ginger saying in a sarcastically oblivious voice: "Now that sounds like a delusion brought on by your sexual urges towards your mum. I diagnose you with secretly wanting it. Tell me: How does that make you feel?"

…

"Alexandra," Luke laughed. "Did you ever correct him on that?"

...

As a matter of fact, she had.

"Alexandra, Doc?" Alex whispered when they had a moment.

"I panicked, I realized I didn't even know if you _had _a full name," he admitted. "So was I close?"

She chuckled. "Sort of. It's Alexia, by the way. Just so you know."

"Alexia," he tried it in his mouth, feeling the sharp edges of the word in his mouth. "Hm. It'll do."

She put her hands on her hips. "What'd'ya mean, _it'll do?"_

"I mean, it's fine. It's your name."

"Damn right, it's my name."

"I just didn't see that coming, is all," he admitted. "_Alexia. _I mean, you're _Alex_. That's your name."

She shook her head, wondering why she was more amused than offended. "So I earned that one at last, have I?"

"Earned it some time ago, Torchwood."

...

"That's all well and good," said Luke. "But what happened with Freud?"

“Oh, right. Freud couldn’t quite bring himself to say exactly what the threat was,” said Alex. “Whatever he was holding back was something he was clearly afraid would make him sound mental. But he explained himself as best he could and asked for our help. Ginger, being very political and opinionated, tried to joke around that maybe he was hallucinating from too much cocaine. But when the Doctor said he’d help Freud, well...Ginger wasn’t happy about that.”

…

They left Freud in the other room and had a group meeting.

"I actually believe him," the Doctor said. "That sounds like a couple of different things could be happening here-"

"That's not what I'm concerned with," Ginger said.

"Oh good, you've dropped the accent," Alex said, chuckling. "That's mainly what I was concerned with."

Ginger rolled her eyes. "We are not protecting Freud."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because he's a misogynist who cemented harmful ideas about women, for just one of many reasons I have," she replied, crossing her arms.

"Unbelievable," the Doctor said, shaking his head. "We come to a place specifically so that you won't be a know-it-all and you still manage to find something you have a strong opinion about!"

"If we let whatever monster of the week this is have its way with him, maybe we can save some other lives," she persisted. "Emma Eckstein, for instance."

"Letting one person die to save another is not what we do," the Doctor reminded her. "This week it's 'let's abandon Freud' then that's a slippery slope to 'let's kill Hitler!'"

"And why not?" Ginger replied. "That is also a fantastic plan, which I support!"

"These are fixed points in history," he said, with just a touch of amusement. "Anyway, Emma Eckstein only died for a second and was disfigured. Without the experience she might not have become the first female psychoanalyst. You know all this about fixed points in history, you're just intentionally being difficult to prove how knowledgeable and morally superior you are."

Her jaw dropped and there was a brief moment of silence.

"If I might weigh in," Alex interjected. "You did say this was supposed to be a group meeting and so far you haven't cared to know what Jack and I think about it."

"Groovy!" Ginger said. "You two can be tie breakers. What do you think?"

"I'm kind of with the Doctor on this one," Jack said.

"Ouch, okay, betrayal, but I wouldn't expect the _ men _ in the room to understand," Ginger said, pretending to be wounded by this. "Alex?"

Alex hesitated. "I'm sorry, but yeah. Morally we have to try to keep him alive."

"Et tu, Alexia?" Ginger was slightly wounded by this.

…

“But the Doctor made her an offer she couldn’t refuse…” explained Alex.

…

"Come on," the Doctor said. "Accept your defeat. I'll tell you what - if we keep Freud alive then I'll give you a treat."

She crossed her arms, sulking a bit. "What kind of treat?"

"Have you ever heard of Nellie Bly?"

Her jaw dropped again, but for an entirely different reason. "Have I heard of! Of course I've heard of her! Celebrated journalistic pioneer Nellie Bly! I'm a huge fan!"

He looked infuriatingly smug now. "Nellie and I are casual acquaintances so if you can get through today without directly or indirectly causing the death of Sigmund Freud, then I'll introduce you."

She considered this for a moment, looking infuriated by the conundrum it posed. She groaned. "You drive a hard bargain."

…

“But of course, it wasn’t so easy keeping Ginger out of trouble,” Alex said.

…

Ginger opted to stick with the overblown cockney act for the entirety of her interactions that day, much to Alex's amusement.

"If I might offer a suggestion," Freud said at one point. "I think it might simply be negligent to bring these young women into the field of battle. If things are to get dangerous, it could further regress your patient, Doctor, into her hysteria."

Ginger called up more song lyrics, and gestured as if she were as hysterical as he was making her out to seem. "The Doctor thinks I'm fine! He thinks I'm making up lies! The Doctor thinks I'm fine! He leaves me here to die!"

"It might be more prudent to restrain her for the time being, for the safety of all involved," Freud asserted.

"Oh you don't want to do that," the Doctor said. "Part of my diagnosis of her particular deviance was made based on her liking restraints."

…

Luke gasped. “He didn’t _ actually _say that!”

Alex nodded. “I’m still feeling a bit sick recalling it. I told you - she’s the _ worst _influence on him.”

...

Alex and Jack were shocked that he was the one to make that joke, but Ginger took it in her sarcastic stride. "You mustn't leave me to my own devices, sir. Left alone too long and I might just lapse into a fit of chronic masturbation, which from your writings you say is the root of female hysterics."

"You read my work?" he asked, surprised.

"Blimey, no!" Ginger responded, as if scandalized. "A woman should not read, sir! I am properly illiterate, as befitting my gender!"

"My daughter can read," Freud responded, as if scandalized by her old fashioned thinking. "She's very well educated, as a matter of fact. She lives with her close female friend while she pursues her education." He turned to the Doctor. "I'd also venture a guess that she's suffering from classic symptoms of penis envy - seeking to emasculate in order to gain a phallis of her own."

Ginger lurched forward. "Can I hit him?" She was barely restrained by Jack and the Doctor in time.

"Woah, Nellie," the Doctor said, giving her a meaningful look. Then he looked back at Freud. "Sorry about that. Hysterics."

The Doctor and Freud left Ginger to fume a bit on her own, and Alex approached her instead. “You alright?” Alex asked.

“Hysterical,” replied Ginger, dryly. “Funny word, that...Hysterical. Comes from Latin via Greek, like most things do...The Greek word it came from literally meant ‘suffering in the womb’, coming from a root that meant ‘womb or uterus’. Which is why hysteria was a uniquely female disorder - it was thought it came from a weakness in the female organ.”

“You know a lot about this, don’t you?” Alex asked.

“Call it a special interest of mine. You don’t even _ want _to know the wack treatments these quacks came up with to treat hysteria.”

“Were they all horribly painful?” Alex asked, nervously.

“Some,” she nodded. “But some were, I hear...quite pleasurable. If you’re into that sort of thing.”

Alex made a face. “Please _ never _tell me what you mean by that.” She glanced over at Freud. “So you’re really not even the least bit impressed meeting someone so famous?”

"He's left an impression, but that doesn't mean I find him impressive," Ginger replied. "I don't think he deserves to have the influence he does."

…

“Ginger continued to act quite mad for the remaining time we had with Freud,” Alex explained. “But she’d lapse in and out of character when she’d notice something noteworthy.”

…

"This one is a curious case," Freud remarked about Ginger at one point. "Her particular madness and delusion seem to fluctuate, almost on whim. I'd suspect lack of a strong father figure."

Ginger was unable to bite back her sarcastic remark. "It wouldn't matter at all if I told you I'm sane, because you've already decided by my behavior that anything I say should be confirmation of your own theories!"

Freud ignored her, with a look instead at the Doctor. "Women never properly reach moral maturity and need a firm male hand to guide them through life. She's clearly unfit for marriage in her state. Therefore, if no father figure is to become available, she should be confined for treatment and further study."

Ginger reached for a separate song this time. "For the good of our society, they oughtn't reproduce! So while they may pretend propriety we'll never let 'em loose!"

"Don't allow the redhead to have any effect on your secretary, sir," Freud continued. "She's still young, yet. If dangerous ideas aren't sewn into her head, she might still be marriageable."

"Okay, can I hit him now?" Ginger said, rising to anger again.

“You are a very violent woman!” Freud exclaimed. “It would be wise to tame that temper of yours!”

"Your theories are based on nothing but abject misogyny and a disregard for the safety of your patients!" Ginger snapped at one point. "Addiction is a serious disease and I'm not trying to downplay that, but your ideas are extremely detrimental to the well-being of the people in your care!"

"I will not be lectured by a psychotic woman!" Freud snapped back. "You talk of matters that you cannot possibly fathom, since you are not at all educated!"

This seemed to strike an especially thin nerve of Ginger's and she was once again restrained from hitting him. Freud walked away to give himself time to cool off.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked. Alex and the Doctor also looked a bit concerned. This suddenly wasn’t fun for any of them anymore.

"I'm fine, of course I'm fine," Ginger snapped. "Don't psychoanalyze me."

"You know this was your choice, right?" the Doctor reminded her gently. "To play dumb. We all know you're a know-it-all, this was the point of coming here. You don't have to prove anything to us, remember?"

"Yeah, just lay off it, okay?" she snapped, turning away.

…

“So basically,” Alex continued. “What it all came down to was this alien species called the Flvg...Flevg...Floov...Aw, hell, I still can’t pronounce it. Too many consonants. They needed a compatible brain to power their machines. They needed a computer that would predict human behavior perfectly, and they’d heard Freud’s reputation. So they decided to steal his brain. Of course, that all went wrong when Freud was discovered to _ not _be as smart as he thought he was. The Doctor was smart enough to play dumb, but Ginger couldn’t bring herself to do that. She got kidnapped and they forced her to do all these tests...”

…

The Doctor came to rescue Ginger, catching her between two of the intellectual games she’d been made to play.

“Ginger, there are too many guards, I don’t know if we can fight them all off and get us safely out of here,” he told her. “So your only hope is to throw the last game.”

“Throw the game?” she scoffed. “But I’m winning!”

“Yes, but you know they’ll just let you go if you fail!” he pressed. “You know what they’ll do to you if you go through with this.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever-”

“Ginger, this is insane,” Alex cut in. “You can’t _ seriously _ be _ reckless _enough to put your pride first instead of your safety! Why is it so important for you to always be the smartest person in the room?”

"Look," Ginger said, frustrated. "I don't want to be the smartest. I mean...I do. But..." She sighed, clearly struggling to get words out. "The problem is that I was brilliant as a kid. Actually kind of genius category in language and reading. Never could do math, though, so I developed a bit of an insecurity about it since it's the one thing I'm not good at. I guess I’ve been lucky that the games we’ve been playing today are more creative. Riddles and such things. If they cared about math or my ability to solve a _ real _puzzle, I’d be screwed."

“But that doesn’t explain why you feel like you need to _ prove _something all the time-” Alex began.

“Because I didn’t ever finish school,” Ginger said, self-consciously. “I didn’t ever get a chance to prove anything to anyone. Society punishes those of us who aren’t able to get a formal education. And as much as I think this system is flawed, it pisses me off that people think I’m less intelligent just because I had to educate myself.”

"Lots of people don't finish college, though, Ginger," Alex reminded her. "And lots of people who do aren’t _ half _as smart as you are.”

Ginger hesitated. "I didn't even make it as far as college."

Alex was still oblivious. "Well, you were a genius so you probably didn't need to go further than secondary school-"

"You don't get it!" Ginger snapped. "I left school when I was 15. It wasn't my choice and I never went back. That's why I hate so-called 'educated' people like Freud. They don't have a damn clue what they're talking about and people just listen to them because they have a fancy degree. Like people like me aren't allowed to know things, like we haven't earned that right somehow. I hate people who just talk without making sure they know what they're talking about. Before you speak, you'd better make damn sure you're certain of what's about to come out of your mouth, because you could end up with all sorts of consequences. Just make sure you have supporting evidence before you accuse people of penis envy, is all I'm saying."

...

“Ginger was summoned to the last game,” Alex explained. “And as much as we tried to talk her out of it, she insisted on going through with it. But this game was different. It involved looking at a piece of art and understanding what the artist was feeling and what the intentions were. Ginger might’ve been a genius when it came to solving those riddles, working out patterns of behavior, and using deductive reasoning, but at this...she failed. And we thought, for sure, that she had thrown the game. That she’d realized that we were right. But it wasn’t that at all. She’d just found something else she wasn’t good at. She looked at that painting and just saw nothing but lines on a canvas. She felt nothing for it. No connection at all. I’m not judging - I don’t understand art either. But it was enough. They let us all go.”

“And you let them get away with it?” Luke asked. “Won’t they just find another brain?”

“The Doctor and Ginger left them with a parting gift,” Alex explained. “Fried all their machines. There’s no way they’ll make trouble again. Plus Doc called in the Shadow Proclamation and left them to sort the whole mess out.”

...

"You never did say, young lady," Freud asked Alex once everyone was safe. "I do presume you have a strong male influence in your life, but I might be presumptuous in assuming you are not already bound for marriage?"

"I don't think so," Alex said, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

"You just seemed so moral and level, I had to assume it was under the guidance of a young gentleman," Freud continued. "Not like the ladies today, who get caught up in the immorality of taking on female companionship."

"And what do you mean by that?" Alex asked, having a nasty feeling where this was going.

"The plight of the homosexual woman is a sad one," Freud lamented. "Unable to reach fulfillment through childbearing, she will inevitably decline as she is only working with a child's emotional capacity."

"Now hold on there!" Jack said, getting angry himself.

"There is still hope for you, child," Freud said, clearly getting to the core of his argument that he'd been building to. "You must forfeit clitoral stimulation and refocus your efforts elsewhere, lest you never develop past this stage."

This time it was Jack that lurched forward as if to hit him, but the Doctor stopped him.

"Hold on, Jack," the Doctor said, his eyes betraying his own anger even though his voice was calm. "We can't go around hitting people in front of Alex, we have to set a good example. But since Ginger isn't a role model, she doesn't have that problem."

There was a moment where this statement sunk in. Ginger turned to the Doctor then, shocked. "I can hit him?"

"Just this once, make it count," he said. "Might I suggest his nose? Avenge Emma Eckstein, be a metaphor for his coke addiction, whatever gets you going."

She grinned, clearly pleased with this result.

"Hold on, now, this isn't civilized at all," Freud said, clearly thinking they wouldn't go through with this.

"I'm not civilized," Ginger said. "I'm a hysterical woman."

She then punched him straight on the nose. 

…

“Yeah, see, I don’t think Ginger’s really as hardened as she makes herself seem,” Alex continued. “She hit him, and for a second she seemed satisfied. Then she just...wasn’t. Sometimes she gets weird, you know? I think something really bad happened to her. Just after she hit Freud, she felt so...guilty. And afraid. Like she’d just done something that she was so ashamed of and wondered just how much she was capable of. Just for a fraction of a second, like a flash. But then she was normal again. Or normal for her, anyway.”

“How do you know all that?” Luke pressed her. “How she was feeling, I mean. Did she tell you?”

“No,” Alex admitted. “I can just tell.”

“Maybe it’s lucky that they didn’t look in your direction when harvesting brains,” Luke teased.

Alex chuckled. “The Doctor said something similar. People underestimate me, and maybe that can be an advantage. Because I’ll tell you one thing...I could’ve passed that last test. Maybe the artist’s intention would’ve escaped my grasp, but the piece felt sad. Lonely. It communicated a profound sense of isolation. I don’t know, I think I could’ve worked it out.”

…

"Did you catch all that about Freud's daughter and her 'female friend'?" Jack asked, after they were back in the TARDIS.

"Oh yeah," Ginger said. "He was trying so hard to make it sound like his daughter wasn't an unmarried slut that he was convincing me instead that she was-"

"Gay," the Doctor said, as if this were a neutral statement. "Anna Freud was very gay."

"Really?" Alex said, having not considered this.

"It was never confirmed, and she denied it," the Doctor said. "But she and her 'friend' that Freud mentioned lived together for the rest of their lives."

"Did Anna Freud ever marry?" Ginger asked.

"No, but she helped her 'friend' raise her children."

"Gay," Ginger agreed. She turned to Alex. "Sweet, simple, naive Alex. You must learn that any time a history book says two women lived together for decades and never married that always means they were gay."

"Anna Freud actually became a prominent child psychologist, you know," the Doctor said, pointedly.

"That's right!" Ginger said, as if she couldn't believe she'd forgotten. "Her work actually meant something!"

"I didn't know that!" Alex said. "Why don't we learn more about her in school?"

Jack, Ginger, and the Doctor all exchanged a look before saying in unison. "Gay."

Alex laughed. "Point taken."

"Best part is that we got out of there alive without Freud prescribing us any cocaine," Jack said.

…

“So Nellie Bly turned out to be a really cool lady,” Alex continued on. “She was an American journalist in the early 1900s. She wasn’t taken seriously so she went undercover in an insane asylum to show how bad the conditions were-”

“I read about her in class!” Luke said suddenly, as he realized who Alex was talking about. “Really cool lady. I read her book.”

“Could you loan it to me? I’d like to read it.”

“Sure.”

“Anyway, yeah,” Alex continued. “Nellie Bly was cool. Think Ginger had a crush on her _ just _a bit. She got that way about some communist chick we met a few weeks back at a labor protest. She’s got a type.” They realized they’d walked in a circle and were nearly back at the house. “Anyway, that was my day.”

“And you still haven’t said what you actually wanted to talk to me about,” pointed out Luke.

“I guess I’d hoped maybe you’d take the hint from the story,” she admitted. “Being a genius and all, you know? So that I wouldn’t have to say it? I just...I wanted you to be one of the first to know that I’m gay. I only just came out to The Doctor and Jack and Ginger last week. I’m planning to tell Sarah Jane and Sky when we get back inside. But I wanted to tell you first.”

He considered how to respond and put an arm around her as they kept walking. “My first kiss was with a girl, you know,” he said, finally.

“I didn’t know that, actually,” she said, surprised.

“It was a long time ago now,” he said. “But I never really...thought about people in any serious capacity. Not until Sanjay. And you know how I’ve always been - a bit naive when it comes to how the world works. I didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to feel that way for a guy. Or, rather, that there are _ some _people who think that I shouldn’t. So I was just trying to follow these feelings where they were going, and Sanjay was the one pulling back. Because he liked me, but his parent’s culture told him that it was wrong. Let me be clear - I’m not saying his culture is the one at fault here. Every culture has its mix of tolerant and intolerant people. Ours can be just as unforgiving. I’ve just been lucky that Sarah Jane is so accepting. It was shocking enough for me to witness the kind of racism Sanjay has to go through…” Alex was shocked to hear a note of bitterness enter his voice. “...But knowing that I’d add homophobic abuse to that...He didn’t need all that extra. I didn’t want to make his life worse, and I told him that.”

“But it obviously worked out?” Alex pushed him, needing desperately to hear the rest of this story. “I mean, you’re together now, right?”

Luke smiled at her. “He came back round a few days later and told me that his life was worse without me. And we’ve been together ever since.” 

“I don’t think it makes you naive that you didn’t realize it would be hard,” Alex said. “I mean, I was sort of the same way for a long time. I grew up around Jack and his whole Torchwood thing. I just thought that was normal, you know? People just tended to be how they were. But then after I got adopted out and came to England, I saw it differently. Ten year olds taught me that the world really isn’t that tolerant.”

They paused just outside the door. “The reason I’m telling you this, Alex,” Luke said. “Isn’t to scare you off. Because the world is so amazing and it can be so wonderful if you let it. But it’s also complicated and won’t always be easy. You’ve talked a lot tonight about what you observe about the Doctor and Ginger. Consider that maybe there is much more struggle going on under the surface for both of them that makes it complicated. And consider that it may be complicated for you in the future, because let’s be honest it’s always more complicated for people like us. It can take people a long time to realize what they really mean to each other, and you can’t force an answer. That’s how you break things.”

“Very wise words from my best friend’s naive older brother,” Alex teased, though they both knew she was quite moved by everything he’d said.

“Only the best advice for my sister from another mister,” he teased back. “That’s a phrase I learned at university!”

“Please never say that again!” Alex groaned. “Why are all of you people _ so embarrassing? _”

“I just hope you don’t feel like you’re alone in this,” Luke said, suddenly getting serious again. “I don’t want you to make yourself lonely and isolated. We’re all here for you. Always will be.” He smiled at her. “Now, you ready to go inside? Ready to come out?”

“Yeah, but don’t make a big deal out of it…”

…

The problem with stories that are narrated from the first person is that the narrator only knows what they were actually involved in. There was another scene that day, just out of earshot, that Alex did not witness and so could not recount to Luke.

Jack took their group out for ice cream after they returned to London. Alex finished her cone quickly and decided she needed another, so she dragged Jack to the counter with her to help her make a selection. This left the Doctor and Ginger sitting down at the table alone.

"How are you feeling?" the Doctor asked her, a bit nervously.

"Feelings?" she replied. "I don't do those."

"You do," he said, wondering if he was stepping over a line here. "I saw your face just after you hit Freud. You didn't look alright. It was just a fraction of a second and everyone else missed it, but I saw your face."

"Now you're a believer?"

"Without a trace of doubt in my mind."

"This is going in a weird direction," she said, waving her hand. "My fault, I apologize."

"You're distracting me from the topic," the Doctor replied. "Very intentionally."

"Just got a bit of a headache," she sighed. 

“Would it help if I said it in your language?” the Doctor asked, slowly. 

“Which one would that be?” she asked.

“Song lyrics,” he explained. “They seem to put you at ease. For instance, the Doctor could say: ‘Show me where it’s hurting.’”

She groaned and played along with this game, opting for a lyric further in the song: “Doctor, won’t you think I’m fine?” She hesitated, before sighing. "I used to be so good with the violence," she explained, dropping the song references. "I want to stand up and be all punk rock and loud and defend what I believe in. But when it actually comes to it, I feel...I don't like violence. So there's a disconnect."

"There is a bit of a cognitive dissonance with you, I have noticed that," the Doctor mused.

"How so?" Ginger asked, with a touch of her old defensiveness.

"You've told Alex so many times that it is important to educate herself," the Doctor said. "Because institutions will hand out information in a disingenuous way and try to, as you say, brainwash her. You talk about how schools disenfranchise the differently abled, you rail against the school-to-prison pipeline...But most importantly you talk about how your school performance is not an indicator of your intelligence."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, you know all this," he continued. "You know that there's no such thing as smart people, only insecure people who can cleverly steer conversations back to subjects they're more comfortable with. You use facts as an act of self-defense. You know so much, logically, but you don't believe nearly so much. You are surprisingly introspective, almost to a fault. You know yourself so well, but you seem to be the thing that you believe in the least. You run from faith, even at the cost of faith in yourself." He leaned across the table and looked at her earnestly. “You don’t have anything to prove. Not to me or to anyone. Please try to be more careful. I don’t want to see you get yourself killed because you felt like you had something to prove.”

She rolled her eyes. “Careful, Doctor. If you don’t watch yourself, people might think you actually care about me.”

“I do,” he said, earnestly. “Just look out for yourself. I guess it’s foolish to wish that you wouldn’t get hurt when I know you already are hurt.”

“How do you mean?” she asked, suspiciously.

“Something wounded you deeply and you keep putting bandages over the wound, but it keeps opening. If you don’t clean it and treat it properly, it’s just going to get infected and fester. The bandages aren’t enough.” He thought once more of the song that they’d been trading lyrics to and modified them to fit this situation. “I’m here to tell you that you’re breaking...And the plasters are not working this time.”

She swallowed hard as she regained her composure and crossed her arms. "Thanks for the psychoanalysis, Doc," she said, dryly. "Think your diagnosis is a bit faulty though."


	11. Chambermaid

September 19th

The Doctor was bored and, as usual, a bit restless.

_“So I guess we’ll see you in a few days, then?” he’d asked at the end of their last trip._

_“Oh, actually, I was gonna talk to you guys about that,” Ginger had said. “Next week isn’t good for me. I’m extremely busy and won’t have time.”_

_“It’s a time machine,” the Doctor had insisted. “It can make time.” This was a phrase Alex tucked away for later use._

_“I’m going to be too busy until around the end of the month,” she’d said, firmly._

_“Doing what?” the Doctor asked, incredulously._

_“Busy people things,” she replied, exasperated. “None of your business, quite frankly. I’ll be away, and that’s all I’ll say about it. Try to have a life, why don’t you?”_

“I do have a life,” he muttered aloud to himself.

The TARDIS whirred something at him.

He frowned. “Well nobody asked you,” he replied to it.

The Doctor tried to prove Ginger wrong. He’d tried to occupy his mind with other things, but couldn’t seem to satisfy himself. He was bored. And a bit lonely. And those weren’t good combinations. So finally, he gave in.

…

“I don’t think we have to wear costumes,” Sky Smith said.

“Good, ‘cuz I’m not gonna,” replied Alex. “Can you imagine how stupid I’d look in a dress?”

Sarah Jane knocked on the open door to Alex’s bedroom. “Alex, dear, the Doctor’s here.”

Alex frowned. “That’s weird. I didn’t think he was gonna come round today.”

…

Alex took the stairs two at a time. “What is it, what’s wrong?” she asked, upon seeing him.

“Woah, steady there, Torchwood,” the Doctor teased with a twinkle in his eye. “Does anything have to be wrong? Can’t a man drop by to see his fake daughter?”

“No,” she said, suddenly irritated as she became aware that he was fine. “No he can’t. We have rules about this. And schedules. We’re not meant to visit Ginger again until the 30th.”

“I was...being spontaneous,” the Doctor replied, a little hurt that she didn’t appear happy to see him.

“Mhm,” Alex suddenly felt a little bad about the whole situation. “Look, now isn’t a good time. We’re just about to leave.”

“Leave?” he asked. “For where?”

Luke Smith walked into the room. “We’re taking Alex to a Medieval Times Festival.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, suddenly disdainful. “A Medieval Festival? Really? Why?”

She crossed her arms. “You don’t get to judge me. It wasn’t my idea. It’s just a chance to get out of the house.”

“Well if you want to get out of the house, why don’t we go to the real Medieval period?” the Doctor said, having a sudden idea. “Give you the authentic experience! You can all come along!”

Alex shook her head. “Thanks, but since Ginger’s not here I’ve gotta be the one to say I’d rather not have plague today. And, plus, they’ll have funnel cakes.”

The Doctor still didn’t approve. “But those festivals are not at all accurate-”

“Accuracy isn’t the point,” Luke said. “The point is to have fun.”

The Doctor considered this and decided he still didn’t like it. “Fine,” he conceded. “Go to your cesspool of inaccuracy, I won’t stop you. Just don’t expect me to join you.”

…

Alex, Luke, and Sky walked toward the entrance to the festival, which was being held near an old castle in the countryside. Alex groaned as her eyes fell upon something near the entrance and she sped up.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” she said, crossing her arms.

The Doctor was leaning against the doors to the TARDIS. “I got bored,” he said, simply. “Plus, I believe you said funnel cakes? Not that they had funnel cakes in Medieval Times-”

Alex held up a hand. “Doc, let me stop you right there. If you’re going to tag along, you’ve gotta be fun, alright?”

He looked at her blankly. “Fun?”

“Yeah, fun,” she nodded. “You know fun, right? The opposite of that know-it-all thing you and Ginger do? You’ve just gotta loosen up, alright? This isn’t that serious.”

“Fun?” he repeated, the tiniest bit offended. “I can be fun! I’ll show you fun!”

She sighed. “Alright. Just get it out now, before we go in. Just so we don’t have to hear you complaining the whole time.”

“Complain? I wouldn’t complain-”

“Yes you would, but only because Ginger isn’t here. If she were here, she’d complain and you’d pretend to be the fun one. Or, possibly, you’d both complain. So tell us what we’re in for? I’ve never been to one of these.”

He hesitated, but clearly wasn’t able to resist. “The food’s just part of it,” he admitted. “Some of it is accurate enough, but when you start offering pizza I get a little skeptical. And not all of the merchant vendors try hard enough to be using materials and crafts that existed at the time on Earth. And, unless we’re talking about the actual reenactors, most people don’t wear clothing that is accurate to the time period.”

Alex waited patiently until he stopped talking. “Is that all? Are you finished?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” the Doctor replied.

“Then let’s go inside,” Alex said.

They bought their tickets and walked through the gates. They looked around at all the colorful people recreating history and wondered which activity they should try first.

“Well?” Alex pressed. “Is it as bad as you thought it would be?”

The Doctor frowned. “No,” he admitted, looking in the window of the small bakery. He was surprised to not find any food trucks or stalls - the layout of this place was very like what an actual medieval village would be like. “Actually, this is...this is spot on. Barring some of the patrons-” He glanced at a festival-goer who was dressed as a fairy. “-this festival is the most accurate of its kind I’ve ever seen.” He looked at a menu on a food stall. “And this is all accurate food to what the peasants would’ve been eating here in the lower village. It’s...impressive attention to detail.”

Luke was looking at his map of the festival. “If you’re hungry, we can stop by the Inn? Apparently we can ‘grab a pint of ale’ as the locals would do.”

“Alex and I are still underage,” Sky reminded him.

“Only barely,” Alex reminded her, though she didn’t really fancy a drink either.

They began walking past the Inn when the door opened. “Alex Mitchell?” the voice said. “And Sky Smith! Is that you?”

They all turned to see a young Japanese girl who was wearing a simple brown tunic-dress over a white shift with hair that was tied away from her face and hidden by a brown scarf.

“Kira!” Sky exclaimed excitedly, running forward and hugging her friend. “I haven’t seen you in ages! What have you been up to?”

“I started university!” Kira explained. “I’m getting a history credit for volunteering here!”

“Cool!” Sky said, enthusiastically. “So what’s your job?”

“I’m a barmaid,” Kira shrugged. “Good, honest work I suppose.” She turned to Alex then, who was standing completely still like she’d been turned to stone. “Hiya, Alex,” she said.

Luke nudged Alex slightly and she came back to herself. “Yes, hi, nice to see you, Kira,” Alex said, awkwardly. “You’re not, uh, you’re not wearing your glasses. Got contacts?”

“No, can’t afford them,” the girl admitted. “It’s just against the rules to wear modern glasses in here. They’re not period appropriate. I put them back on when I go on breaks.”

“Alex,” Luke gave her a meaningful look. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

Alex looked at him sharply, and Sky stepped in instead. “How silly of me,” she said, obliviously. “Guys, this is Kira Sakamoto. She used to go to school with us, but she graduated last year. Kira, this is my brother Luke and-”

“John Smith,” the Doctor said, sticking out a hand. Kira shook his hand quickly. “Designated adult supervision.”

“Hardly,” Alex muttered under her breath. “That was supposed to be Luke today.”

“What was that?” the Doctor put a hand to his ear as if he was hard of hearing.

Kira didn’t notice any of this. “Were you guys planning on dropping by the Inn? The food is authentic medieval.”

The Doctor made a face. “In that case, we’re really not that hungry.”

Kira nodded and chuckled. “Fair enough. But tell me you’ve been up to the castle at least!”

“We only just got here,” Luke said. “Haven’t had time yet.”

“You’ll love it!” Kira said, enthusiastically. “We’ve only got peasant stuff down here - all the fancy dress and the more decent food is up there! Plus there’s archery and jousting!”

“Sounds like fun!” said Luke, enthusiastically.

“You should also check out the Court Seer while you’re there,” she continued.

“Court Seer?” the Doctor repeated, not liking the sound of that. He’d had about enough of vague prophecies.

“It’s a lot of fun,” Kira insisted. “Mostly just silly touristy stuff - tarot and palm reading and crystal balls and dream reading. We’ve got a couple of fortune tellers - two per day. I think it’s Lady Sibyl’s shift. You should go up and see her at the castle.”

“Sounds like fun!” Sky said, enthusiastically.

Kira smiled. “Listen, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll come meet you at the castle later when I’ve finished my shift, right?”

“Sure, yeah, sounds good,” Alex managed to choke out.

Kira smiled once more and turned to go back to the Inn. The rest of them immediately began walking in the direction of the castle.

“So uh...fortune-telling,” Alex said, trying to clear her head. “Should be fun.”

“She was pretty,” Luke said, with a knowing grin. “Very pretty, actually.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Alex said, vaguely.

“You should ask her out,” Luke said, pointedly.

“What?” Alex came back to herself sharply. “No. It’s not like that. Don’t be weird.”

“Oh come on, Alex, you clearly like her,” Luke pressed. “I’ve never seen you go so non-verbal in front of anyone before. You were all deer-in-the-headlights.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, as they all began chuckling.

“It’s a very clear difference between how you treat Sky and how you treat Kira, is all I’m saying,” Luke replied. “I don’t know what you were ever worried about.”

“Worried?” the Doctor stopped chuckling. “What did you have to be worried about?”

Alex sighed, frustrated. “Look, I came out to Sarah Jane last week, alright? I was afraid that she wouldn’t want me being so close with Sky anymore - that she’d think I was trying to seduce her or something. But really Sky is more like a sister to me than anything else and Sarah Jane knew that.”

“...But Kira definitely isn’t?” the Doctor teased.

“Look, I may not be a psychic or anythin’,” she replied. “But I can tell you your futures will end right here if you don’t stop makin’ fun of me.”

“Alright, alright,” the Doctor said, still amused. “We’ll drop it. Even though you clearly have a crush.”

“A Heart-Sized one, was it, Doctor?” Alex said pointedly, remembering he’d made some reference to that effect with regards to Ginger.

The smirk was wiped from his face. “Let’s just go inside,” he said, hastily. They reached the castle at this very moment.

“Wow!” Luke said, looking around gleefully. “Kira wasn’t lying! There’s a real jousting field here!”

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s jousting at the moment,” Alex pointed out. “Why don’t we go inside the castle?”

The four of them ventured inside and marvelled at the interior. It was lavishly decorated in period-accurate furnishings and seemed to be fully stocked with actors pretending to be court servants and knights.

“Oh look!” said Alex, pointing at a door marked ‘Court Seer’. “Let’s go there first!”

“I dunno,” said the Doctor, hesitantly. “I tend to believe the future is best left uncertain…”

Alex rolled her eyes. “It’s just a laugh, Doctor, don’t take it so seriously.” She opened the door and pushed him through it. “Come on!

The inside of the room was decorated exactly like you’d expect one of these places to be and the air was thick with incense. They found themselves in a small sitting parlour with some pillows on the floor and a small table. There was a curtain beaded curtain separating this room from another area, and another patron emerged from behind it and took his leave. The man was silent and got out of there as soon as possible. The three humans and the Time Lord exchanged a look and figured that meant they were clear to enter. The Doctor put up a hand to part the beaded curtain.

“You may enter,” a voice said from beyond it. “But be warned, to enter my realm you will be required to leave your world at the door.” The woman’s voice was mysterious yet delicate, each word spoken in her Welsh accent was clear and crisp. The Doctor shrugged at the others and entered the room with them close behind.

“Lady Sibyl, I presume?” he asked, as he entered.

The lady had her back to them and was lighting some incense. Long dark-red hair could be seen falling upon her shoulders in waves, though it was tied back from her face with a black hood that was detached from the black long-sleeved tunic she wore. “Lady Sibyl had to rest her mind’s eye. I’m Lady Cassandra, I’ll be your guide to the Beyond.” She turned to face them and her eyes widened with mortification as she was caught out.

“No way,” Alex breathed, trying and failing to repress a grin. “So this is what you were doing that made you too busy to see us this week?”

Ginger switched back to her normal Scottish accent and gave the Doctor a deadly look. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

The Doctor had been vaguely intrigued before at the historical accuracies on display, but now he was properly having fun for the first time. He smirked. “Could ask you the same question. So you’re Lady Cassandra today, are you?”

She sighed, frustrated already. “We had a call-off. We’re supposed to have two Sibyls a day and one got ill. So I’m filling in.”

“Alex, who’s this?” Sky asked, calling attention to the fact that there were more than two people in the room.

But Luke had figured it out. “Are you Ginger?” he asked. “Alex has told us so much about you.”

Ginger turned sharply to Alex then, throwing her hands in the air. “Oh come on, you tell people about me? So much for a secret identity!”

“Were you being Welsh today?” Alex asked, amused in spite of herself. “Did I really just catch you being Welsh?”

“Lady Cassandra has always been Welsh,” Ginger shrugged. “I don’t remember why. Probably something Arthurian, seeing as I’ve never actually been to Wales.”

“Always?” the Doctor repeated this word. “She’s always been Welsh? Have you played this character before? Do you secretly moonlight at Renaissance Faires?”

“And where are your glasses?” asked Alex, calling attention to how this was the first time anyone had ever seen her without the thick black frames.

Ginger sighed, heavily. “Look, my shift is over in half an hour, then the Sibyl will come in. You can either wait for her, or I can give you a reading now.”

His face split into a wicked grin. “You’d really go through with it? You’d give us a reading? Are you qualified for that?”

“Listen, it’s not like I believe in this stuff,” she rolled her eyes, defensively. “But I know how to do it. This isn’t my first time playing the fortune teller. I can make it convincing.”

“What exactly are you trained in?” the Doctor asked, with a surprising amount of interest.

“Basic dream reading, palmistry, scrying, tarot, and, of course, the classic reading of tea leaves-”

“Wait, wait, go back to the fact that you just said you do scrying,” the Doctor chuckled. “Do you mean you just make stuff up?”

“Well of course I mean I just make stuff up!” she replied in frustration. “Like people can actually see things in a crystal ball! It’s all made-up rubbish!”

“All of it? Even the other stuff?”

“Yes, but in a different way,” she insisted. “I actually do the rest of that stuff classically, the way it’s been practiced by people who actually believed in it. I studied it the first time I played this character so it can be authentic.”

“And when was the first time you played Cassandra?” he pressed, thinking he could get a little information about her past from her. But the way she glared at him told him that he would have no such luck.

“I’d like a reading!” said Sky, oblivious to the verbal tug-of-war between the Doctor and Ginger.

“Alright,” Ginger acquiesced. “It’s my job, after all. What method would you like?.”

“How much will it cost?” Alex asked.

“No charge,” Ginger replied. “It’s all rubbish. No sense making you lot pay for it.”

“Cool!” said Sky. “I want my tea leaves read!”

Ginger bit her lip apologetically. “Oh no can do, kid,” she said. “The British didn’t consume tea until the 1600s. You may have noticed we don’t serve it anywhere at this festival. It wouldn’t be historically accurate.”

The Doctor came to a sudden realization. “Ginger, don’t tell me that you’re the one in charge of this festival? That...would all make perfect sense. The extreme attention to historical detail...that’s something nobody but you could care about!”

She was suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m not...in charge of it.” She fidgeted a bit. “Someone else put the whole thing together. I was just...approached to handle the historical accuracy of it. I wasn’t actually meant to be doing any acting.”

But the Doctor wasn’t finished. “The other fortune teller - you said she’s called Sibyl? And there’s more than one Sibyl, right?”

“Correct,” she said, stiffly.

“A timely Greek reference if I ever heard one,” he said, almost beaming at her as he realized how much thought she’d put into this all. “You know, I actually knew Sibyl. The original one, I mean."

She laughed. "The _original _one? Like she was real?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said. "And would you believe she fancied me a bit?"

"I would not," she shot back. "I mean, look at you. You've got side-burns."

"And what's wrong with that?" he asked. "Anyway, point is...you did all this? You made the decision to make them all Sibyls?"

“I did,” she admitted.

“But you named yourself Cassandra-” he began.

Ginger realized where this train of thought was heading and aimed to derail it. “Look, my point is that we don’t have any tea leaves,” she replied, firmly. “Would your friends like to pick another method?”

Ginger assumed the mantle of Lady Cassandra once more as she settled behind her table to read Sky’s dreams. After that, she gazed into a crystal ball and made stuff up for Luke’s sake. Though the kids all giggled at the absurdness of the situation, Ginger never broke character or was anything less than serious.

Finally it came to Alex’s turn.

“Guess I’ve always been interested in Tarot,” she shrugged, sitting down opposite Ginger. “Don’t think it’s real or nothin’, just think it looks cool.”

“Tarot it is, then,” Ginger said, her accent thick and Welsh in the Lady Cassandra persona. She took a deck of cards from within a pouch she wore on her tunic and handed them to Alex. “Shuffle these. Then divide them into three piles.” Alex looked at her like she was a madwoman for a moment, then did as she was told. “Alright, now turn over the card at the top of each pile.” Alex did this. Ginger reached out and touched the card at the top of the pile on the left. “This card symbolizes the Earthly plane and what is going on with you now.”

“Looks a bit ominous,” Alex said.

Ginger shrugged. “Depending on your interpretation. That’s the Tower. It means right now is a time of great personal change for you. You’ve recently experienced a great upheaval and are experiencing chaotic times. You are experiencing personal growth and finding yourself for the first time.”

“I’m seventeen,” Alex replied. “Isn’t that sort of generic?”

Ginger smiled. “Suppose so.” She pointed to the card in the middle. “This next one symbolizes the mind. Funny that you should get the Hermit.”

“Wait, I got the what?” Alex asked. “What are you implying?”

“It’s really not so bad being a Hermit once you get used to it,” the Doctor said in an off-hand sort of way.

“Yes, we can all start up a little Hermits support group later,” Ginger said, dryly. “The point wasn’t a call-out of you. The Hermit means you’re doing some soul-searching, using your alone time to find guidance from within yourself. But do be careful - the reverse of this can lead to excessive loneliness if you don’t let yourself out once in a while.”

“Says the pot to the kettle, I’m sure,” Alex shot back, under her breath. “Alright, fine, so what’s this last card, then?”

“It’s a message to you from the spiritual realm,” Ginger explained. She looked down at it and frowned. “Hm.”

“What?” Alex asked, starting to buy into the mystery of it even as she still knew it was stupid. “What does it say?”

“This card is reversed,” she mused. “A lot of people say you shouldn’t do a reading with reversed cards, you should only count the top of the card...but I’ve never been one to ignore an unpleasant reading…”

“What is it?” Alex demanded. “What does it say?”

“Well, my dear…” Ginger said. “It’s not exactly the Grim, or anything...but you’ve got the Empress. The upright card has a lot of positive meanings, however...The spirits are reaching out to you, telling you that you’re experiencing a creative block and that you might be at risk of developing an over-dependence on others.”

The energy in the room deflated. “Is that all?” Alex asked, laughing. “For a minute there I thought it was gonna be something serious!”

Ginger smiled, finally breaking character. “See? Told you I could do a reading like a professional.” She got up from the table and began gathering her cards.

“Hold on a second,” the Doctor cut in. “You still haven’t done a reading for me!”

They all stared at him.

“Doc,” Alex said, slowly. “Weren’t you just saying you think the future is best left uncertain?”

He grinned, cheekily. “That was before I knew it was Ginger. If I start believing she can tell me my future, then we’re in trouble.”

Ginger put her hands on her hips. “I’m not giving you a reading,” she said, firmly. “Why would you want one?”

He shrugged. “I’m bored.” He sat down. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

She stood for a moment, debating her options before sighing heavily and sitting down. She held out the Tarot cards to him.

He put up his hands to refuse them. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Giving you the cards to shuffle,” she replied.

“I don’t want a Tarot reading,” the Doctor replied. “Alex already got one of those.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Since I can’t have tea leaves, my options are limited. What have we done already?”

“I did dream reading,” said Sky.

“And I did scrying,” replied Luke.

“Which leaves us with…” the Doctor mused.

They both realized it at the same time.

“Oh hell no,” Ginger groaned. “That’s lame even for you, Casanova.”

He was suddenly uncomfortable. “Well, I mean, we don’t have to. Stupid idea, really. Reading palms? What was I thinking?”

“I see what you mean,” Luke whispered to Alex. “They are a pair of blind morons.”

Alex smirked and whispered back. “Let’s play with that.” She raised her voice again. “Come on, let’s get a move on, Doc. Unless you’re scared that Ginger’s gonna be too good at reading your future!”

“I’m not scared,” he sulked, defensively. “Not scared of anything.”

“And Ginger,” Alex turned to her next. “I don’t believe you really can read palms. Think you made that up.”

“I did not!” She crossed her arms and glared at the teenager. “I am very dedicated to the parts I play! I do my research! It’s just that I’ve always found palm reading a bit too...intimate.”

“Intimate?” Alex mocked. “Intimate how? The whole personal space thing?”

“That, yeah,” she admitted. “But also the stuff in the reading is a bit too personal. You know, stuff that’s really none of my business.”

“Thought you said it was all bull anyway,” Alex replied. “So what’s the harm? Unless there’s some other reason the two of you are scared?”

“No!” Ginger replied, sullenly. “Not scared! Already told you I’m not scared!”

“Alright then,” Alex replied. “Prove it, then. Both of you. Go on.”

The Doctor and Ginger looked at each other, and it was clear that they were both uncomfortable.

Ginger finally was the one to give in to the peer pressure, allowing one more frustrated groan to escape her lips. “Fine, alright, fine! If you’re going to be a child about it! Give it here!” She snatched his hand and turned it over in hers so that it was facing upwards. But before she could get to the point of reading anything, they both felt a strange warmth begin at their point of contact and spread through their arms to pass over them like a shockwave. Time itself seemed to slow down and fall away.

“It’s, uh…” Ginger attempted to focus. She blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, not even being able to focus enough to summon the Lady Cassandra character and talking instead in her own voice. “Well, uh…” She traced a finger over one of the lines on his palm. “The head line...It’s totally separated from the heart line. It means you’re, uh, you’re adventurous.”

He nodded and looked down at his hand. “Guess that’s a freebie.”

“And, uh...it’s sort of indicating to me that you’re controlled by fates.”

“Again, something you could’ve gotten from earlier conversation.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Nice long life-line, that’s good...And, uh…”

“What is it?” he asked, finally daring to sneak a glance up at her.

“Your, uh...heart line.” She sounded awkward just bringing it up.

“Is that the one you’ve been conspicuously avoiding?” He tried to tease her, though he was having as much trouble focusing as she was.

“It’s, uh...well…” She snuck a glance up at him then, trying to play it off like it didn’t matter. “It, well, it just says that you, uh...That you fall in love easily.” She accidentally made eye contact with him then and he had a chance to notice how her eyes somehow appeared even greener without her glasses. The Doctor felt an involuntary twitch in his fingers as they contemplated closing around her hand, which was still poised tracing the lines of his hand. Luckily they were interrupted by Alex clearing her throat.

“Well I think that’s enough of that,” Alex said, clearly regretting her earlier decision. “Proved my point well enough. No need to get handsier than that.”

The Doctor and Ginger jerked apart, stuffing their hands in their respective pockets - not that Ginger had pockets, her hands simply ended up putting away her Tarot cards in the pouch attached to her dress.

“Don’t know what you mean,” said Ginger hastily.

Just then the beaded curtain parted and they were interrupted by a tall woman in a red dress whose black hair fell to her waist. The newcomer stopped short, taking in the sight of the people before her.

“Lady Cassandra,” she said. “I read the portents and they all insisted the convergence we discussed was soon to happen. I see I was too late in warning you, as it has occurred.”

The Doctor took the welcome distraction. “Lady Sibyl, I take it?” he asked.

Sibyl ignored him and took hold of Ginger’s sleeve. “You mustn’t go down this path. Remember what we discussed. Don’t allow the fates to manipulate you this time. Your heart is so easily led-”

Ginger jerked away. “A spectacular performance, Sibyl,” she said, slightly uncomfortable. “Really believable.” She turned to the others. “This is my favorite Sibyl. Hardly had to train her at all! She was already spooky enough-”

“I’ve told you it’s not an act!” Sibyl interrupted.

“Wow,” Luke said. “She really is good.”

“Well if you’re here, Sibyl,” Ginger began. “I have other things to get on with.” She pulled a black riding cloak off a chair and put it around her shoulders. She suddenly frowned at the others. “You lot aren’t planning on staying at the festival, are you?”

“We only just got here,” Sky said. “We haven’t seen anything yet.”

“That won’t do at all,” she fretted. “I can’t be accidentally seen by people who aren’t in period-appropriate attire! I know people resent me enough for my attention to detail - I can’t be caught being hypocritical! No, if you’re planning on staying, we’ll have to get you to the royal tailor at once!”

Alex groaned. “I already don’t like the sound of that…”

Ginger began ushering them out of the court seers chambers, but Sibyl stopped her. “Cassandra, a word?”

Ginger smiled at the others. “Wait outside the door. Don’t run off.” They hurried out the door and she closed it behind them. “What is it?”

“I can already sense a change,” Sibyl said. “The winds still blow in the same direction, but the force of the gale is changing-”

Ginger crossed her arms. “Seriously, you can drop the act. It’s impressive commitment to your character, but-”

“It’s not an act,” Sibyl said, desperately. “I’ve been trying to make you understand! I am here because the cycle was interrupted, but not broken. It threatens to begin anew here, in this place where it all began before.”

“Before?” Ginger asked. “What do you mean before?”

“You must leave this place,” she insisted. “It’s the only way to be sure it does not begin again. The future can be changed. You’re not doomed to repeat mistakes if only you can change the story.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ginger replied, blankly.

“Leave this place, or risk a fatal convergence. This place cannot sustain so many Sirens in one spot - you won’t just sink him this time, you’ll sink us all!”

Ginger shook her head. “Sirens? What d’ya mean? Wait...you’re not calling me a Siren are you? Sweet!”

“But you don’t understand-”

“Look, I’m very busy,” Ginger said, crossing her arms. “Don’t have time for all these games.”

“Your whole life’s a game,” Sibyl replied. “A chess match played between two skilled players. We must beware the queen.”

Ginger couldn’t figure out why she felt such a chill pass over her. “I’ll, uh...keep it under advisement?” She shook this off. “What am I on about? Good work, Sibyl, keep it up. Very scary.” She made to open the door before Sibyl stopped her.

“If you won’t leave this place then heed my warning. Deja Vu is the first sign of doom. If you tread a course you feel has been trodden before, run the other way. Don’t look back.”

...

“So what was it?” asked Sky when Ginger finally emerged. “What did she need?”

“Nothing,” Ginger said, though she was vaguely disturbed despite herself. “Now let’s go get you in some costumes.”

…

Ginger waited patiently outside the privacy screens while the others were fitted for their costumes.

“I’m surprised that your costume isn’t more colorful, Ginger,” the Doctor said. “Especially after observing Sibyl’s. Thought you’d want something more dramatic.”

“But I’m a commoner, Doctor,” she pointed out. “As a commoner, I’m still subject to sumptuary laws.”

“Sumptuary laws!” he repeated. “You really did do a remarkable amount of research for this, didn’t you!”

“I just want it done right,” she shrugged.

Sky came out from behind her privacy screen first wearing a simple brown tunic dress.

“Opted for more of a commoner vibe, I see!” Ginger delighted. “No airs and graces about you. That’ll do nicely.”

Luke was next, and he was wearing brown trousers and a short green tunic.

“Again, not too flashy,” Ginger remarked, nodding. “You’ll get on well remembering your station.”

“Remembering your station?” the Doctor remarked, still from behind his privacy screen. “Since when were you of all people concerned with a station?”

She ignored this. “Alex, are you ready yet?”

“I don’t know,” Alex replied, timidly. “I don’t think this really feel like me.”

“That’s the whole bloody point!” Ginger insisted. “Come on, now. Let us see.”

Alex sighed and walked out from behind her privacy screen. Ginger had fitted her with a long black dress with gold brocade designs.

Ginger considered it. “Hm. Bit excessive, but I knew that going in. You’re a bit more of a noble, I suppose. Wouldn’t be at all subject to Sumptuary Laws.”

“What are Sumptuary Laws?” asked Luke.

“Laws that dictated the excess common folks were allowed to spend,” Ginger explained. “Royals said only special people should be allowed to own certain things. It was to maintain class distinction.” Ginger frowned at Alex, examining her more closely. “Come on now, stand up a bit straighter. And stop fidgeting. A noble wouldn’t fidget.”

“Not sure I want to be a noble,” Alex said, uncomfortably. “Do I really have to wear a dress-”

“Yes, of course, Alex, that’s part of the fun!” Ginger insisted. “C’mon, get outside of yourself for a little while! Be someone else! It’s fun!”

Alex didn’t like this idea. “I guess so,” she muttered.

“Well now I’ve got to see what kind of costume she’s got you in,” the Doctor said, coming around the side of his own privacy screen. He looked Alex over. “It’s not bad, actually. You look quite lovely.”

“And you look ridiculous!” Ginger said, immediately regretting how she’d agreed to let him pick his own costume.

The Doctor wasn’t originally too keen on ditching his normal clothes, but in the end couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He was wearing a frilly white blouse and black leather trousers.

“What?” he asked, innocently. “It’s period accurate, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Ginger said, frustrated. “But for god’s sake, idiot Casanova, close your shirt! You look like a cheap pirate twink - and last I checked, Jack had dibs on that look if we ever needed to go for it.”

“Is it that bad?” the Doctor asked, amused by her reaction.

“It’s a little disturbing, if I’m being honest,” Alex admitted.

Ginger sighed. “Alright, fine.” She threw her hands in the air and began rummaging through some of the clothes that lined the walls. She threw him a black knee-length tunic. “If you insist on looking like a knock-off evil Disney prince, then at least have the decency to put a tunic on over it.”

“Alright then,” the Doctor said cheekily, clearly enjoying himself. “If it really bothers you so much…” He threw the tunic on. “Better?”

Ginger looked him up and down, considering it. “Much better,” she admitted. “Not bad at all…” She realized that she was being watched. “I just mean I do good work is all. At least you don't look like a rogue knight from BBC Merlin anymore.”

Alex suddenly realized she could use this to her advantage. “You know, Ginger, I’m actually glad you’re here. I don’t think us three kids are good enough company for Doc at a place like this. Maybe you should show him around.”

This surprised her. “Why?”

Alex shrugged. “Because, honestly, I’m sick to death of hearing you guys talk about things being historically accurate. We’re gonna go have fun, you guys can go be boring. I know you’d have more fun being boring.”

“But we can still tag along with you!” the Doctor said. “We can be fun-”

Alex thought it was time to give him a little push. “Doc, why don’t you hang out with people who at least look close to your own age? And Ginger, I know you’re just dying to show off all your hard work! We’d never appreciate it enough.”

The Doctor and Ginger were both incredibly uncomfortable with this idea.

“I guess that’s...true,” Ginger said slowly. “I mean, I’ve put in so much work.”

Alex smiled. “Great! Then it’s settled! We’ll meet you guys in front of the castle in an hour, alright?” She took Sky and Luke by the arms and began moving them quickly to the door.

“Wait, we didn’t actually agree to this-” Ginger started to protest, but it was too late. She supposed they could have gone after them, they’d only just barely left, but that would look far too desperate.

There was a moment where neither of them could find the words to say.

“You know, it’s actually not a bad idea,” the Doctor said, finally. “I mean, I’d quite like a tour. The work I’ve seen you put into this so far has been...impressive. I’d like to see more.”

She wasn’t used to being given compliments or having people express interest in the things she was passionate about. “Are you sure?” she asked. “It’s sort of...boring.”

He saw this act of self-deprecation and suddenly forgot he was meant to be teasing her. “Yes,” he said, gently. “And it’s not boring. I’m actually interested.”

She thought this over, clearly at a loss for what she should do next. “I haven’t been a tour guide in a very long time,” she said, anxiously. “So you’ll have to be patient with me.”

“Seems all I ever am is patient with you,” he teased. “And you were a tour guide?”

“It was a Halloween thing,” she explained. “I ran a graveyard tour as a ghost.” She smiled to herself and swept out of the room.

“Wait, you what?” he asked, before following her from the room. He caught her back out in the main hall.

“So where should we start?” Ginger asked. “Do you want to head back to the village or would you rather start here?”

“Wait wait, hang on,” he said. “You can’t just say you were a ghost then breeze past it. I want to start with that.”

She laughed, caught off guard by this interest. “It’s not important. I’ve been a lot of things. So where should we start?”

He regarded her for a moment. “Why don’t you show me around the castle?”

She smiled at him. “I can do that.” They began walking.

…

“You can say it,” Alex said, as soon as she and her friends were clear of the Doctor and Ginger. “I’m a genius.”

“I’ll admit you are really good at knowing which buttons to press,” Luke admitted. “Sure shook them off quick.”

“I couldn’t take another second around the two of them, honestly,” Alex said. “I just need to wait for them to cool down and they’ll be fine.”

“Cool down?” Sky asked. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” Alex replied. “The way the world went all dim and was too small all of a sudden. That happens a lot with the two of them. Once they get sick of each other and start fighting again, it gets less warm and you can actually breathe again.”

“Alex,” Luke said. “I don’t think either of us noticed that much.”

“Yeah,” Sky piped up. “I mean, there was clearly something between the two of them, but that was very specific.”

Alex frowned. “Was it?”

Sky was suddenly distracted by someone coming towards them and waved. “Kira! Over here!”

Alex flushed at once, worried to be seen out in these stuffy medieval clothes.

“Hey guys,” Kira grinned as she caught up with them. “Woah, cool costumes! Where’d you get those?”

“Ginger got them for us,” Sky explained.

“Who’s that?” Kira asked. “Another friend of yours?”

Alex was suddenly confused enough to forget that she was nervous. “What’d’ya mean? You know Ginger. She’s in charge of the historical accuracy and was filling in as a fortune teller today?”

Kira’s face was suddenly full of understanding. “Oh you mean Cassandra?”

“Yeah, that’s what she was calling herself today,” Alex agreed.

“Huh,” Kira said. “I guess I just assumed Cassandra was her name...Now that I think about it, I don’t think she ever said what her name was, at least not to me...Anyway, you’re friends with her? Is she always this intense?”

Alex laughed. “Yeah, that’s a nice way to put it.”

…

The Doctor and Ginger strolled across the castle grounds, taking in the various sights and talking to the actors.

“None of them seem particularly happy with you,” the Doctor noted when they left behind another medieval food vendor. “And now that I think about it, nobody seems to be having very much fun…”

“The vendors are just unhappy because I forbade hot dogs and funnel cakes,” Ginger said, dismissively. “And what’s not fun about historical accuracy?”

“I mean, for you and me, I certainly understand,” he said. “But you could loosen up for the general public a little. I mean if it's not for the general public then who are you doing this for?”

“I will not sacrifice authenticity-”

“Alright, then answer me this,” he said. “You’re so concerned with historical accuracy that you’d remove anything that makes this place fun to anyone else, but you don’t have these people speaking Middle English?” She gave him a look, then. “Don’t tell me you actually considered it!”

“I sort of did,” she admitted, mildly embarrassed. “But turns out that even I couldn’t learn Middle English in a month, and expecting the entire staff to learn it too would’ve been a high bar.”

He was liking her more and more by the second. “You realize if you’d gone through with it, they’d be completely incomprehensible to the modern speaker?”

She floundered around for something to say. “Well that’s more of a them problem, the way I see it…”

He laughed, enjoying himself immensely. “How in the world did you pull all this off?” he asked her. “I mean, this is an incredible amount of effort and it definitely paid off.”

She looked at him sharply. “You think it paid off?”

“Definitely. I mean, look around you! I’ve never seen so much accuracy at one of these things! I don’t know how you did it without the use of the TARDIS - and I’m actually slightly offended you didn’t ask for my help, to be honest!”

“You would’ve wanted to help?” She chuckled to herself at the absurdity of this statement. “I would’ve thought something like this would’ve been beneath you.”

“Oh come now,” he chided her. “Don’t pretend this is about me. This is about your pride and how you won’t ask for help. But never mind that, since these results are incredible! How did this all happen?”

“Well,” she said, slowly. “I was approached by an old director I’d worked with on a show last year - same guy I’d made purchase the limelight. He remembered how seriously I took this stuff and asked if I wouldn’t be willing to take over this whole aspect of it. So I did. I did tons of research and talked to lots of historians-”

“But never asked the one person who could’ve made you a primary source,” the Doctor replied. “And another thing that surprises me...Why have you gone and made yourself a peasant? I would’ve thought you’d install yourself as queen.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t actually want power or responsibility - at least not the kind everyone sees. Having power makes you corruptible and having visible power makes you vulnerable.”

“So you’d rather sit behind the scenes and take charge there?” he asked. “You’ve thought this through a lot. It’s just a silly reenactment, isn’t it?”

“I’m just saying that I don’t need the spotlight, not anymore. It can be thankless working in the shadows, but as long as I know I did a good job, nobody else’s opinions of it matter.”

The Doctor stopped then and looked her over. "You know, I've just noticed," he said. "Your hair is longer. I didn't think we were gone for that long."

She reached up to touch her hair and scoffed. "I'm a theatre person, Doctor. I have access to extensions."

"And you're squinting a lot," he teased. "Are you _sure _you don't want to put your glasses back on?"

The two of them began strolling down near a garden path when they were caught by someone hurrying to catch them.

“Sibyl?” Ginger asked, slightly concerned by the way the lady couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “What is it?”

“You cannot go this way,” Sibyl insisted, panting. “You mustn’t go…”

“What are you on about?”

Sibyl reached out and gripped Ginger’s shoulders. “Don’t meet beneath the willow tree. You’ll doom us all with your siren song...You must not go beneath the willow tree…” She clutched her chest and fainted.

“Woah,” the Doctor said, catching the woman before she could hit the ground. He laid her out softly and checked her vitals. “She’s burning up - probably some form of heat stroke. We should get her inside.” He scooped up Sibyl and turned to Ginger. “Do you know what that was all about?”

“I dunno,” Ginger said, distinctly uncomfortable. “She keeps saying weird things like that…”

…

They got her inside the castle to where a real registered nurse was stationed as a court physician. The cause of collapse was confirmed to be heat stroke, just as the Doctor predicted. Ginger knew they were coming up on the time when they’d agreed to meet Alex, so she told the Doctor to go on ahead of her while she attended to Sibyl.

“You should go home, get some rest,” the physician prescribed.

“No, I can’t…” Sibyl said, weakly. “I can’t leave…”

“I don’t know why,” Ginger replied. “I mean, you’re a volunteer. You’re not getting paid nearly enough to be here. You should go home.”

“It’ll all happen again…” Sibyl despaired, deliriously. “There’s no stopping the inevitable...Even Sirenia can’t be held forever...”

Ginger was getting a bit concerned about all this ranting. “You should get some rest. Seriously. This’ll all still be here tomorrow.”

Ginger and the Doctor moved nearer to the door.

"What do you make of all this?" the Doctor asked.

"I dunno," she said, not wanting to admit how much this was bothering her. "I don't want to dismiss her out of hand but...it's all nonsense, right?"

He looked at her steadily, as if carefully considering his answer. "Unless it isn't."

She was surprised. "Why shouldn't it be?"

"I'm just saying to consider it," he explained. "Maybe she's like the original Greek seer Cassandra. The seer that only spoke the truth but nobody ever believed. Maybe we owe it to her to take her seriously. Just in case there's a possibility that there's some truth to what she's saying."

She hated that he was making sense. She groaned. "Alright. Fine."

Ginger left her in the care of the physician and began making her way to the main entrance of the castle. She turned a corner when she almost ran headlong into the Doctor.

“Oh. Sorry.” She stopped short, getting out of his way. But he didn’t even seem to notice her - instead he just continued along his path as if his stride had been unbroken. Ginger frowned. “Wait hang on, how are you here so fast? You should still be in the infirmary with Sibyl?" She suddenly noticed that he was dressed a bit differently. His black tunic was suddenly covered in gold designs that matched a crown upon his head. “And where did you get the new costume? I didn’t approve that!” He still didn’t acknowledge her, so she started following him. “Hey! What are you doing?”

He turned a corner and completely disappeared, leaving her standing there wondering what the fuck just happened.

…

She met up with the others in the courtyard and immediately punched the Doctor on the arm.

“Ow!” He rubbed his arm. “What was that for?”

“You know bloody well, ghost boy,” she crossed her arms and glared at him. “What was the point of all that? If you’re trying to spook me, it won’t work. I’ve done haunted houses!”

“I really don’t know what you mean-”

“And did you do another costume change?” She threw her hands in the air. “Impressive, honestly. I was Viola in Twelfth Night, and even I can’t be sure I could do three quick changes that quickly.”

“You were Viola in Twelfth Night?” This fact delighted him beyond what was reasonable.

“Shut up,” she snapped. “Tell me how you pulled that off.”

“Pulled what off?” he asked, earnestly.

“I just saw you in the castle,” she insisted. “What were you doing?”

“I wasn’t in the castle, Ginger,” he said.

“It’s true, he wasn’t,” said Sky. “He was out here with us waiting.”

This threw her off. “Alright, either you’re all in on the joke or-”

“You could consider that maybe I wasn’t just in the castle?” the Doctor proposed. “But now I’m curious about what you actually did see.”

Ginger’s eyes suddenly landed on Kira. “You,” she said. “Your name’s Kira, right?”

“Yeah,” Kira said, utterly confused by all of this. “And before you say anything, my shift is over. I’m just hanging out with my friends-”

“I’m not worried about any of that,” Ginger said, dismissively. “I just was surprised to see you here, is all. In this context, I mean.”

“She used to go to school with me and Alex,” Sky explained.

“So should I still call you Cassandra?” Kira asked the question she’d been dying to ask. “Or do you want to be called Ginger or-”

“Shhhhhh shh shhhhh,” Ginger said, glancing to make sure they weren’t overheard. “Don’t be throwing that name around everywhere. I like my anonymity.” She realized in time that she was being a little ridiculous and tried for a joke. “In case any fae are listening.”

Before anyone could reply, they were interrupted.

“There you are!” a young man said, grabbing Kira around her waist. “Been looking everywhere for you!”

Kira yanked herself away from him, clearly annoyed. “And I’ve been avoiding you, Kevin,” she shot back. “Didn’t you get the hint when I poured that drink on you that I want nothing to do with you?”

“Oh babe, I like it when you play hard to get,” Kevin said, with an oily smile.

He tried to reach for her again but Alex stepped up next to her. “I think she made it pretty clear that she’s not interested in you, mate,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Kevin asked. “I’m here to claim my woman, so step off.”

“Actually, I don’t think I will,” Alex insisted. “She doesn’t belong to you, so why don’t you step off?”

Kevin was clearly annoyed to be interrupted. “Oh I see what this is,” he said. “You’re into her too. Look, I don’t blame you, but Kira’s not going to go for you. Nobody ever goes for little dykes when they can have a real man, you get me?”

“No, actually,” Kira cut in. “I don’t think any of us get you.”

Ginger was furious about this as well. “I think you need to be very careful with your words,” she said. “Or better yet, don’t say anything at all.”

“Yeah, see, not really into you either, but good effort,” Kevin said, suddenly noticing Ginger. “Not exotic enough. I’m here for my waifu, you get me?”

Kira was suddenly furious. “Your what?”

“You’re disgusting,” Alex said. “I’d fight you myself if I thought it was worth the effort.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Was that a challenge? Because we can duel right now. See which one of us wins her.”

“That’s disgusting and sexist,” Kira replied. “You can’t win me like I’m a prize!”

“And actually you can’t duel,” Ginger pointed out. “We don’t allow sword-play here. If you want, though, Alex, you can challenge him to the Trials.”

“Yeah, I do that then,” Alex said, stubbornly. “I challenge you to the Trials.”

Kevin stepped up to her. “You sure you want to do that? Because I’m going to win.”

She glared at him. “You’ve treated my friend very rudely. So consider this a challenge.”

"And winner gets Kira?" he said.

Kira opened her mouth to protest, but Alex beat her to it. "Absolutely not. Kira makes her own decisions and can't be won. Loser has to stay in the stocks for ten minutes and get pelted with rotten food." She nodded towards a wooden post nearby.

“Oh it’s on,” Kevin laughed, clearly dismissing her already. “This evening at 4:30, then?”

“It’s a deal,” Alex replied.

“Looking forward to it.” He turned to Kira with another oily smile. “M’lady.” He took his leave of them.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Kira said to Alex. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“I wanted to,” Alex replied. “Guys like that seriously piss me off.” She turned to Ginger then. “So, uh...What are the Trials?”

…

The Trials were a set of challenges Ginger had devised as a way of providing entertainment. You could challenge another person to any one of them, but if you didn’t specify then you were challenging them to both.

“It’ll begin with an archery challenge,” Ginger explained.

“Archery?” Alex sighed, relieved. “Piece of cake, I’ve got that.”

“You do?” Ginger and the Doctor said together, surprised.

“Yeah,” Alex shrugged. “What? I can’t have layers?”

“I’m just surprised, is all,” the Doctor said.

“I’ve never used a real bow and arrow,” Alex explained. “But Uncle Jack taught me how to use a modified crossbow when I was 6.” She caught sight of the Doctor’s expression. “Don’t worry, it was strictly for self defense. I was never in danger. The arrows had little plungers at the end of ‘em.” She turned back to Ginger. “So what’s the next one?”

“Well...jousting,” Ginger replied. “I mean, it is a Medieval Fair.”

“Jousting,” Alex replied. “Yeah I...don’t know how to do that.”

“Neither do I,” Ginger admitted. “If it was sword fighting, I’d be all over teaching you that. But archery and jousting are two skills I never learned.”

“You can sword fight?” asked the Doctor.

“I insisted on learning for a play I was in,” Ginger admitted, wearily. “I hardly see how that’s relevant.”

“Jousting,” Alex repeated the word to herself. “I don’t know if I can do this. This was a stupid idea. I’m going to lose and look stupid. Not least of all because you’ve insisted I wear this stupid dress!” She sat down heavily on one of the stone palace stairs.

Ginger looked at Alex then, a strange sadness filling her. “You’re right about the dress,” she said. “We’ll go to the blacksmith to get you something more suitable. But you have to do something first.”

“What’s that?” Alex sulked.

“You’ve got to call your uncle.”

…

“Hey what’s going on!” Jack Harkness said, meeting Ginger outside of the smithy. “I came as soon as I could!”

“Thank god you’re here,” Ginger replied, relieved. “We’re about to butch Alex up and I knew we couldn’t do it without you.”

“Butch her up?” Jack asked. “How?”

…

The two of them entered the forge where the others were all gathered.

"By the way," Jack said to Ginger. "Nice extensions. They blend really well with your natural hair."

Ginger turned smugly to the Doctor. "See? _He _at least is smart enough to know what extensions are."

"Uncle Jack!" Alex said, getting up to greet her uncle. "You're here!"

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he smiled. “Is anybody going to explain to me what it is that I wouldn’t miss?”

“First of all, we're going to make her suit of armor,” Ginger explained. “I was...wrong, in what I said to you before, Alex. I got caught up in the story of it that I forgot...I shouldn’t’ve been forcing you to be someone you’re not. We should’ve knighted you the minute you got here.”

“Alex is going to defend my honor, apparently,” Kira replied.

Jack suddenly noticed the newcomer and quickly after noticed the way Alex looked at her. He smirked. “Who’s this?”

Alex groaned, growing tired of explaining. “She’s Kira, she’s a friend, drop it.”

“Alright, alright,” Jack said, in a way that suggested he had no intention of dropping it. “But what do you mean you’re defending her honor?”

“This bloke was messing with Kira, so I challenged him to a duel,” Alex explained. “But it’s not a duel, it’s some contests. The first one’s fine, that’s just archery-”

“You’ve got that one, easy!” Jack replied. “You always had great aim!”

“But the other is jousting,” Alex concluded. “Which I’m less prepared for.”

“Oh well that’s easy too,” Jack replied. “I can teach you to do that.”

They were all surprised to hear him say that, but none of them were as surprised as Alex was. “You can joust?”

“Long story,” he grinned. “One you don’t need to know about. But I can teach you.”

"Do we need to have Alex officially knighted?" the Doctor asked. "If she's going to be a knight, I mean?"

Ginger considered this. "We don't have time for a whole knighting ceremony," she said. "I mean I'd have to gather all the fake nobles-"

"We don't need them," the Doctor waved his hand dismissively. "Why knight my fake daughter using fake nobles when we can get a real knight?"

Ginger looked at him suspiciously. "Knights _can _knight other people," she said, slowly. "But we don't have a real knight. And I _forbid _you to pop in your TARDIS to kidnap one."

"Oh there's no need for all that," he said, with a grin. "I've been knighted, you know."

Ginger laughed, dismissively. "You have _not _been knighted!"

"Have so!" he said, clearly enjoying himself. "I was knighted by Queen Victoria! Of course, I was banished promptly afterwards, but that's not important." He glanced at Jack. "That's how you ended up with _your _job, you know."

Ginger stared at him. "You're really a knight?"

"I sure am," he replied. "I can get this done quickly, no need for ceremony."

The blacksmith approached them at that moment. "The armor is finished."

Ginger made her decision then. "Alright, Alex, let's get you in that and then we can knight you. Be warned: real armor is heavy."

...

Alex finished getting her armor on and was made to kneel before the Doctor. Ginger borrowed a sword from the blacksmith that he could use to knight her.

"Alex Mitchell," he said, seriously. "Do you hereby swear to protect and defend all beings of the universe and beyond to the fullest of your ability?"

She tried not to laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing was. "I swear," she said, bowing her head.

The Doctor touched the sword to both of her shoulders. "I now pronounce you Sir Alex of Ealing."

"Sir?" Alex asked, grinning.

"I figured you wouldn't want to be a dame," he shrugged, smiling as well. "You may rise." She got to her feet and he looked at her with a certain fondness. "Can you believe that? My fake daughter is a real knight."

She laughed. "Not real, remember? It's just a game."

"No, you're really a knight now," he replied. "I'm a real knight so me knighting you made you a real knight."

Alex's jaw dropped. "What, seriously?"

He just grinned. "Let's get you trained for the joust."

…

Alex fell to the ground, feeling the wind get knocked out of her for a fourth time.

“Come on, Alex, you can do better than that,” Jack said.

“You sure about that?” she grumbled, picking herself back up. “I’m covered in bruises and I still can’t manage to stay on this horse! I’m going to lose!”

“You never used to accept defeat this easily!” Jack said, slightly concerned. “When we’d have sparring matches when you were a kid, you always picked yourself up off the mat and-”

“Yeah, well, I’m grown up now and I realize when I’m no good at something!” she snapped.

“Come on,” Jack tried again. “I know you can get this. You just lack confidence, so you hesitate-”

"Oh come _on, _Jack!" she snapped. "This isn't at _all _like when we used to spar when I was little! Back then there weren't any stakes to it - just me and that stupid spoon, remember? But I've got to be better than that. This is jousting - I can't use _any _of the tricks you gave me to win here! It's all useless!"

“Maybe we should take a short break,” Ginger said, picking up on the fact that Alex was about to lose her patience entirely.

"Whatever," Alex snapped, marching away from them to get a drink of water.

Ginger was concerned, but turned to Jack first. "Spoon?" she asked, inquisitively.

"Yeah, I taught her to fight with it," he shrugged. "Little wooden thing when she was too small to even use a staff. Truthfully, it was a reference, since she always reminded me of Hup-"

"Who?" Ginger asked.

Jack shook his head. "Call me in a few years when you get that reference. Then we'll talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a two-parter. The second part will be up later today.


	12. Rose Red

"I'm worried about Alex," the Doctor said, sitting down heavily. 

"Worried?" Jack asked. "Why?"

"She's been a little moody with me today," the Doctor admitted. "And now she's struggling so much with this...I don't know, I just feel like she's not her usual self."

Jack thought about this. "You're not used to her being moody. She gets like that sometimes, it's nothing to worry about. She'll get over it. She always does. She's a teenage girl and she's been through some stuff. Be patient with her."

"I'm patient of course I'm patient," the Doctor replied. The Doctor caught sight of Ginger walking by with Kira. He stood up. "Where are you two going?"

"I'm going to get her a new costume," Ginger explained. "I really want to lean into the whole knight thing we've got going on, so I'm going to turn Kira into a proper lady for the night."

"And aren't you going to get a costume for Jack while you're at it?" the Doctor asked.

Ginger considered this. "Nah, I think he's alright."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "But it's not historically accurate!"

"Weren't you the one who told me to loosen up a bit?"

"I'll get in a costume," Jack said, grinning. "Never turn down a costume opportunity. Can I have a suit of armor too?"

Ginger chuckled. "We'll see."

...

Kira settled on a dark purple dress and a silver circlet for her hair. She took advantage of a moment she had alone with Alex to say something that was on her mind.

"You know you don't have to do this, don't you?" she asked. "I mean it's not like it's life or death."

"He was horrible to you," Alex said. "You shouldn't have to put up with that."

"But I do," Kira said. "Every day. I'm used to people being like that. I don't need you to defend me."

"I know," Alex said. "But I still want to. I want to at least try. But tell me...Is Kevin actually any good at this stuff? How do you know him anyway?"

"He goes to school with me," Kira explained. "And I don't know how good he is at jousting, but he's told me several times that he grew up around horses...So I really don't know, I'm sorry."

...

The time of the tournament was drawing nearer, and everyone gathered near the archery field.

"How are you feeling about this?" Jack asked Alex.

"How do you think I'm feeling about it?" she asked. "I mean honestly? I'm going to lose this. I have no chance."

"You're psyching yourself out too much, Podling," Jack said, bracingly. "I keep telling you that if you just put your nerves aside-"

"Well that's kind of hard to do," she snapped. "Especially with my uncle buzzing around like a gnat calling me cutesy childish nicknames."

"Sorry," Jack said. "Alex, are you alright? I know the Doctor said that you've been a bit off today-"

"I'm fine," she said, closing her eyes for a moment. "It's just exhausting. Doing this all the time. I mean I love it, I do. I just sometimes need a day where things don't get all...complicated."

"Are things complicated?" he asked.

Ginger approached them then. "It's time," she said. "Are you ready?"

Alex thought for a moment about backing out. "Whatever happens, happens. Right?"

"That's hardly a comforting attitude," Ginger replied.

...

"Alright, here are the rules," Ginger explained. "You'll take turns shooting at the target. You get three attempts, and whichever one of you has the best shots wins. It's really that simple. Who wants to go first?"

"Ladies first," Kevin said, smugly.

Alex shuffled uncomfortably under the weight of her armor. "No, uh, maybe you should go first. Give me a minute."

"Sure," he replied. "This is gonna be too easy..."

He turned away from her and she glanced back at Jack and winked. This was the archery challenge, after all. This one would be a piece of cake.

Kevin wasn't a bad shot, he managed to get all three of his arrows really close to the target.

"Beat that," he said.

"Wow, don't know how I ever could," Alex said, innocently. She lifted her bow, braced herself, and shot three arrows - all of which ended up clustered in the very middle. Everyone cheered except Kevin, who couldn't look angrier if he tried.

"Big deal," he said. "Anyone can do that. I'll beat you at the joust."

This reminder ended her moment of victory, and her nerves returned. 

...

Alex prepared for the joust and couldn't remember ever feeling so nervous in her life.

"You okay?" asked Kira as she helped Alex with her horse.

"Debatable," Alex replied.

"You sure you want to do this?" Kira asked. "Because the archery thing - that was actually really cool. You don't have to prove anything else."

"I still _want _to do this," Alex insisted, climbing up onto the horse. "I just don't know if I can."

"I know you can do this." Kira looked at her for a moment before standing up on her toes and giving Alex a kiss on the cheek. "But in case you need luck?"

Alex was completely in shock and couldn't seem to make even simple words form.

"Alright, Alex," Ginger said, appearing seemingly from nowhere. "We're ready for you."

Alex was still awkward on a horse - she didn't really trust the animals and couldn't quite get over the fear that she'd fall off. She still managed to lead the horse to where it needed to go, all while keeping her eyes forward and purposely not looking back at Kira. She couldn't stop thinking about what just happened. It didn't mean anything, she knew it couldn't mean anything. I mean it was _barely anything _in the first place! However she couldn't help but smile.

"Alright, riders!" Jack said, standing between the two of them. "I know you've likely got some misconceptions about this sport - likely because of movies and TV shows - but the objective is _not _to unseat your opponent! Points _will be deducted _for any rider being shown to purposely knock the other off their horse! That is _incredibly _dangerous and can result in _real injury!_ You will be awarded points for striking your lance anywhere above the waist and below the neck. You will get _one point _for a hit that doesn't break the tip of your lance, _two points _for breaking the tip of the lance, and the match will end if you shatter your lance into several pieces - which will earn you _three points_. The rider with the most points at the end of the match wins. Got it?" 

...

It was a real nail biter. Alex nearly became unseated on her first go, which caused Ginger to give a warning to Kevin.

"If she comes off that horse, I'll have your head for it!" she threatened.

They went a total of four rounds. Alex managed to land blows on two of them. It was strange, because Alex really didn't feel nervous anymore. It suddenly didn't matter to her as much whether she would win or lose. The game wasn't really what was on her mind.

Then it came down to the fourth round. It seemed to happen in slow motion. Alex leaned forward on her horse, lance in hand, then the next minute it struck on Kevin's armor, shattering into several pieces.

"The match is over!" Ginger said, relieved. "Alex scored the most points, she wins!"

Again, everyone cheered except Kevin. Sky and Luke helped Alex off her horse and Kira hugged her.

"Why don't we go to the Inn?" Kira suggested. "We should celebrate!"

"I'm in," the Doctor grinned.

But Ginger suddenly felt the strangest sense of deja vu. "I'll meet you there," she said. "You go on ahead. I've got to do some actual work up here at the castle, then I'll be right down."

...

Ginger was passing by the court physician's office when she did a double take and backtracked. "Sibyl?" she said. "I thought I dismissed you. Why haven't you gone home?"

Lady Sibyl was standing at the window, looking out over the grounds. "I was watching the joust. I was curious. So rare to see something new."

"You don't look well," Ginger said, frowning. "You look worse, actually. No offense. Are we sure it's heat stroke?"

"It's not heat stroke," Sibyl said. "It never was. It's a brain fever, and it's nearly run its course. I only hope I've made a difference. In the short term and the long..." She became unsteady on her feet and Ginger ran forward to catch her as she collapsed.

"I know something is off about you," Ginger said. "Maybe now's not the time to say it, but...I just get this feeling...I've tried to ignore it..."

"That I'm not from here? It's taken you longer than expected to bring it up. But do you see now?"

"See what?"

"Of course you don't, you're not looking the right way." She pulled away from Ginger and leaned against the window. "You're never looking forward, that's always your problem. I was watching you from above. Did you feel it yet?"

"The feeling that I've done all this before? Yes. But that's silly, it doesn't mean-"

"It means everything, because all but one of you have ended up in this place. Though you're the first one to end up here and do things differently...That's why I'd hoped...As long as you're not seeing them..."

"Them?" Ginger repeated.

"There are alternate dimensions," Sibyl said. "You shouldn't be able to see them out in the open, but this is a convergence point. People with special gifts can see through the thin fabric of reality, especially if there is a special connection on the other side. Too many of you are here. If you all act in the same manner then it will open a wormhole which can swallow all the worlds."

Ginger laughed. "Are you serious? Really, are you messing with me?"

"It's why I kept telling you to leave," Sibyl insisted. "It would be better off to know for sure."

Ginger didn't quite know what to say. "I think you should get some rest," she said, trying to leave the room.

"If you see them and they see you, then we're all doomed," Sibyl called after her, weakly sinking back onto a cot. 

...

Ginger was on her way towards the staircase that led to the main floor when she caught a strange sight out of the corner of her eye. She backtracked and went to the window, where she could see a woman who looked exactly like her sprinting from the castle down the garden path. This woman was like her, except not. She was wearing a red dress with black roses on it, and wore a circlet of flowers atop her long red hair. She also looked happy, though that could be a trick brought on by the dying light of the setting sun.

Ginger blinked, and the image was gone. The garden was now once again clear.

"This is ridiculous," Ginger whispered to herself. "You're seeing things. You should go to Alex's victory party."

But even as she said it, she knew she would have to follow the strange vision. She needed to see where she had gone.

...

"I'm proud of you, Alex," the Doctor said, as they sat at the Inn. "Seriously. You showed him what's what!"

Alex laughed. "Thank you," she said. She glanced at the door. "But where's Ginger? Should she have been gone this long?"

The Doctor had been wondering the same thing. "I'm sure she's very busy. You know how she is."

Alex smiled. "But you want to go find her," she said, warmly. She leaned across the table conspiratorially. "You should go do that. Hurry back, though."

"Will do," he smiled.

...

The light was almost gone when the Doctor found himself back up at the castle again. He was suddenly struck with the strangest feeling that he'd been here before, and allowed that feeling to guide him toward the garden path. He set off into the sunset, following this strange feeling.

...

The stars were bright in the sky and reflecting off the small pond when Ginger arrived at the end of the path. She wondered what it was that could've brought her here, when her eyes fell upon a tree at the other side of the pond.

_You must not go beneath the willow tree..._

Ginger shivered as she remember Sibyl's warning.

"This is ridiculous," she said aloud to herself. "I can go anywhere I damn well please." She gathered her skirt and took off toward it. 

She parted the leaves of the willow with a motion that reminded her of parting the beaded curtain in the court seer's chambers and peered through. She caught sight of the woman she'd seen before - the one who looked like her, but only prettier. She didn't notice she had been followed, only sat between the roots of the tree as if waiting patiently for something.

Suddenly the Doctor appeared, parting the branches near her and entering the canopy of the willow himself. Except it wasn't the Doctor, she understood that now. It was the man she'd seen before, with the fancier tunic and the crown upon his head. The not-Ginger got up from her spot, wringing her hands anxiously even as her eyes lit up upon seeing him. The two of them exchanged some words that she couldn't hear.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked from behind her.

She jumped and spun around to find the Doctor there - the _real _one this time. She blushed, though she couldn't say for certain why she did.

"I don't know," she said, defensively. "I just...I was..."

"Looking at something," he finished for her. He stepped up beside her and lifted a hand as if he were about to part the branches.

"No, don't do that," she said, hastily. She felt bad for even looking herself. She couldn't say why, but she'd felt like she was intruding.

He raised his eyebrows. "Why not?" He parted the leaves so he could see, and Ginger found herself immediately embarrassed to see how close the other versions of them were standing to each other. The other her had her back to the other him, and he had his hands on her shoulders.

The Doctor just looked on blankly. "So...what am I supposed to be looking at here?"

Ginger blinked. "Can't you see them?"

The Doctor stepped inside the canopy and Ginger hastily followed.

"See who?" he asked.

"The uh..." She suddenly felt silly for this whole situation. She could still see them, but he clearly couldn't. "You know, never mind."

He looked at her with interest. "Now I really want to know."

"It's uh...Well, us. Sort of."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Sibyl told me that this place...is a convergence point, I think that's what she said. And she said there were versions of us in every universe that always end up here. She said if I felt like something was familiar I should turn the other way...but I didn't listen. Have you felt any deja vu today?"

"Yeah, actually," he admitted. "That's what brought me here." He gestured around at their surroundings. He frowned. "How does she know this?"

"I don't know," Ginger replied, frustrated. "I just know that she doesn't belong here. She's like funnel cake in medieval England - completely out of place. Guess it takes one to know one."

The Doctor looked at her quite seriously. "So what are you here looking at, Ginger?" he asked.

Ginger got distracted when she watched her doppelganger turn around to face his doppelganger and the two of them stood so close together.

"I don't know," Ginger admitted. "But Sibyl said there's a chance that if we can see them, they can see us. And if they do, then it will open a wormhole that will destroy our worlds." She'd been saying all this while watching the doppelgangers, but when she realized the gravity of those words she backed up right into the Doctor. She almost fell over, so he grabbed her wrist to steady her.

"Woah," he said, gently. "I don't actually see anything-"

But he stopped, because suddenly he could see it clear as day. People who looked like them were standing right there beneath the willow tree, and a split second after he realized that, the other version of him kissed the other version of her, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her close. Ginger could feel the heat radiating from where he still had a grip on her wrist and pulled away, dismissing the image from his vision just before the other Ginger spun the other Doctor around so that she was pinned up against the tree.

"We've got to get out of here," Ginger said.

"What was that?" the Doctor asked, very confused by everything about this situation.

But the other Ginger looked up and locked eyes with Ginger, still while kissing her version of the Doctor.

"We need to run," Ginger said. "Now."

...

The two of them ran as fast as they can.

"Why are we running?" the Doctor asked, struggling to keep up with her.

"Because she saw me," Ginger said. "She saw me and I think that's very _very _bad."

"It should've been impossible to see a window to another world at all!" the Doctor said. "I mean it's true that there are weak points between the universes, but we shouldn't be able to see through it so clearly unless something is _very _ wrong!"

"We need to find Sibyl!" Ginger said. "Because there's no way that _that _is us! I refuse to believe it!"

...

They returned to the court physician to find the room empty.

"No, no, _no_!" Ginger said. "She must've gone home! What'll we do now?"

The Doctor picked up a note from a nearby table. "Ginger, this is from her."

"What does it say?" Ginger asked.

"It says that if we're back here, which she knows we will be because we 'can't help it', that means it's all gone wrong. There won't be much time left before the soft spot becomes a tear and swallows us all up. There is still hope. You've got to find a way to change. You're the same there as you are here. Find a way to not repeat the mistakes and it'll end before it begins. You've got to sever your connection to them."

"Well what the hell does _that _mean?" Ginger shouted. 

"I don't know, because what we saw back there...that is _not _what we're like. I mean we would never-"

"Wait, hold on," she said, latching onto a thought. "Maybe it's not that we're the exact same. I mean things have to be different if they're all...like that. But deep down, we end up following the same patterns. We have a lot of the same quirks probably."

"So what are you suggesting?"

She crossed her arms and sighed, already hating this. "You know how you said I needed to loosen up a bit? Maybe it's time. Because the other me on the other side definitely did the same things I did to make this place historically accurate. Maybe we should let the fun in instead."

...

Ginger had the Doctor and Jack change back into their street clothes, then the Doctor returned to the TARDIS to gather supplies. He brought enough materials for all the food vendors to serve carnival foods instead of the bland medieval fare, and Ginger destroyed the notion of sumptuary laws so that every worker could dress as they pleased. 

"And you'll never believe what I found!" the Doctor said, rushing into the tavern. "Tea!"

Ginger had people line up to have their tea leaves read, which she did without any regard to the actual art of tea reading. She figured she had to throw _all _accuracy out of the window.

"Are you ever going to tell us what's going on?" Alex asked. 

"No," the Doctor and Ginger said, firmly.

"Actually, Doctor," Ginger said. "I think there's one more thing we should do. Just to be safe about this." She looked at the others. "You should all start heading home. We're closing soon."

...

She took him back toward the castle.

"What are we doing up here?" he asked.

"You'll see," she said, vaguely.

"I still don't really understand," he admitted. "We shouldn't've been able to see that at all, but I was only able to see it when I was touching you. Why is that? And you have this strange perception about you sometimes...I don't really understand it."

"I don't think it means anything," she said, uncomfortably.

"And you named yourself Cassandra," the Doctor said, circling back around to something he'd nearly forgotten about. "The seer who only spoke the truth but was never believed. Everyone thought she was mad...I can't help but feel like that has a personal connection to you."

"You're right," she admitted, in a soft voice. "But it's not something I care to get into, if you don't mind."

"I can respect that," he said. "But I want you to know that I believe you."

"About what?" she asked, surprised.

"I don't know," he said. "Just...I want you to know that."

Ginger stopped. "We're here."

"The stocks?" the Doctor asked, blankly. "Why are we here?"

"Do you still feel it?" she asked, self-consciously. "That persistent nagging feeling of deja vu? Is it still there?"

"No," he said, noticing for the first time that the feeling was gone. "And you? Do you still feel like something's wrong?"

"No," she said. "Or at least, it almost feels right. And I think I know what we have to do. It's something drastic."

"Like what?" he asked.

She gestured to the stocks. "Get in there."

He raised his eyebrows and laughed. "What?"

"I'm serious," she said. "I don't think this is a likely scenario for another version of us, so I think it's drastic enough to really break our connection. So get in there."

He looked at her like she was mad for a moment. "Alright, then," he said. "I trust you."

She laughed, bitterly. "Don't know what I've done to earn that."

He climbed inside the torture device and Ginger got to work securing him in it.

"So what are you going to do?" the Doctor asked. "Lock me in then let me go? Should be enough."

"Actually," she said, as she finished locking it. "I was thinking I could leave you here while I head back to London for the night.

He laughed before seeing the look on her face. "You're not serious."

"I am," she replied. "Don't worry, I asked Jack to come up here in about 10 minutes. He doesn't know what he's going to find, but he's sure to have a laugh. I just need a head start."

"But why?" he asked, starting to get annoyed. "Why leave me here at all?"

"Because I think you're starting to get a little familiar, Doctor," she said. "Starting to think we're friends. We're not. I don't _have _friends, and I need you to understand that."

"I'm starting to get that," he said, eyes flashing dangerously. 

"Good," she said. "Because even though I know it's all bull, I can't help but remember that you fall in love easily. That's not something you're allowed to do with me, you understand? Not that anybody ever does, but for some reason I think you might be stupid enough to try it."

"Oh believe me, romancing you is the _last _thing I would ever consider doing!" he shot back.

"It shouldn't be the last thing, it should be something that wouldn't even make the list!" she hissed. She sighed. "Goodnight, Doctor. Someone will be along soon." She turned to go.

"You can't seriously leave me here!" he shouted after her. "Ginger! Ginger, come back here!"

...

Jack came by in ten minutes, just as Ginger had said he would. He took one look at the Doctor and burst into laughter.

"What did you do to piss her off this time?" he asked.

...

Kira walked Alex, Sky, and Luke out to the parking lot.

"So I guess I'll see you around?" Alex said, hopefully.

"Yeah," Kira smiled. "Actually, uh, would you mind hanging back for a minute?"

Alex glanced at Sky and Luke. "Uh, I guess so." Sky and Luke went on ahead to the car.

"Listen, about earlier," Kira said. "I shouldn't've...gotten all in your personal space like that. I was just sort of...moved by the moment."

Alex was a tiny bit crushed by this. "Yeah, I mean...No, it was cool. I didn't mind."

"Just when I kissed you-"

"I mean it wasn't even a kiss, was it?" Alex said. "It was just on the cheek, it doesn't mean anything. I get it. It was just for good luck."

"No, Alex, I don't think you do get it," said Kira. "When you won that jousting tournament, I kind of wanted to kiss you again. But for real this time. But I didn't want you getting all confused, thinking it was you winning a prize or anything. Because you can't win me."

But Alex had stopped listening. "You wanted to kiss me? Uh, when you say for real this time, you mean-"

Kira kissed her on the mouth this time, cupping a hand to her cheek. "Like that," she said, smiling at the bemused look on Alex's face. "I hope that's okay?"

"Yeah," Alex managed to croak out. "Really okay."

Kira appeared very satisfied with herself. "You're cute, Alex Mitchell. Call me sometime?" She grinned one more time before walking to her car.

Alex took a minute to catch her breath before walking slowly to Luke's car. Sky and Luke didn't even pretend that they weren't watching.

"So you _don't _actually like Kira, huh?" Luke teased.

...

Lady Sibyl waited near the pond at the end of the garden path, hoping that her efforts had paid off. She kept an eye on the willow tree, knowing the first signs of a rift would begin there. There was already far too much wind, which she knew was the first sign that it was brewing.

Then, suddenly, all became still.

Sibyl was joined at that moment by an Asian lady in a pirate costume who sat down on the ground beside her.

"So did I do it?" Sibyl asked her, her voice fading. "Is it over?"

"I doubt it'll ever be over," the lady said. "But you did your part, just as Margot is doing hers. Though I have to admit, you're far more competent than Margot is. Ultimately, though, it'll be up to me to get it done and I hope I've done enough." She turned to face Sibyl. "This obviously worked. You stopped it."

"I'm not sure I did," Sibyl whispered. "I can't help but feel like...This wasn't me. They were different this time. _She _was different. I don't know any other Ginger who would've stopped it, even knowing what she did."

The woman looked at Sibyl kindly for a moment before taking her hands in both of hers. "Do you even remember?" she asked. "Do you still remember what your name was before they made you Sibyl?"

Sibyl thought about this before shaking her head, a small tear making its way down her cheek. "Who was I?"

The woman's heart broke for Sibyl, though she tried not to show it. "Your name was Cherie. You've come a very long way. You can rest now."

"Can I go home now?" she asked, almost like a child.

The woman's first instinct was to tell the truth, to tell her that there was no home to go back to and that she knew that. But she decided it was kinder to lie. "Yes, Cherie. You can go home now. You were very brave."

Cherie leaned against the pirate's shoulder, closing her eyes. "I want you to be honest with me...For once, I want you to try..."

"What do you want to know?" the woman asked.

"Sirenia," she said. "She's dead, right? Really dead like you promised me?"

The woman felt a chill pass over her. That was the question, the one that had been nagging at her for all this time. 

"Yes," the pirate lied, wondering if it was a lie. "Sirenia is dead. There's nothing to worry about."

"So this was it, was it?" Cherie asked. "Like you said when we got here. Our last stop. Our last Ginger."

"Yeah," the woman said. "Your last stop."

She laughed to herself. "It was fun pretending to be psychic," Cherie admitted. "Though it's sort of cheating when you were there to see all the answers..."

And then Cherie went still. She was gone. Her suffering was finally over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a break from posting next week to attend to some personal stuff (I can feel myself getting sick again and tbh I've been struggling with my depression and have been worried that I'm about to lose my job though I know that's TMI). I'll be back by the end of the month, when hopefully things will be looking up! Thank you for your continued support!


	13. A Retinue of Moons

**September 30th**

The Doctor didn’t have to look at his phone to know who was calling and why. For a split second, he considered not answering it. Then he did the grown up thing and picked up the phone.

“Hey Alex, what’s up?” he said, finally giving in to the larger part of him that knew he was being ridiculous.

“What’s up?” she repeated, vaguely amused by how out of place those words sounded coming out of his mouth. “Did you forget? We were meant to be meeting with Ginger today. You’re already late picking us up, so Jack’s gonna give me a ride to London himself and we’ll meet you there...Unless plans have changed?”

He’d thought about it a lot recently, how the last time they’d spoken they hadn’t discussed the plan at all. He had to figure that the plan hadn’t changed...unless the unspoken truth was that it had? He couldn’t exactly be sure.

“No, as far as I know, the plan’s the same,” he finally said. “Yeah, I’ll, uh, meet you there.”

…

The Doctor met up with the three of them in the tech booth. He noticed immediately that Ginger wasn't wearing the extensions she'd been wearing last time, and her hair was back to being messy and all over the place.

“You’re late,” Ginger said, without looking at him. “And don’t give me some nonsense about how time travelers aren’t late or early, they arrive precisely when they mean to...Late is late.”

“It’s only-” the Doctor replied, defensively. 

“A minute past?” she raised her eyebrows, spinning on the chair to look at him and crossing her arms. “I know. I always know what time it is.”

He scoffed. “No you don’t. You don’t even wear a watch!”

“Who need a watch when they always know what time it is?” she replied, stiffly. 

“Alright,” Jack cut in. “Stop! Hammertime!” Ginger rolled her eyes, and he pressed on. “You two are being weirder than usual.”

“It’s true,” Alex agreed. “There’s a definite vibe.”

“I think the Doctor’s still maaad at me,” Ginger said, contemptuously. 

It had been well over a week since the Medieval Fair, so it took Jack a moment to remember what had happened. “Oh,” he said, with a teasing grin. “You’re not still upset about that, are you Doctor? All this because Ginger locked you in the stocks-”

Alex burst out laughing. “She did _ what? _”

“Let’s not talk about this,” the Doctor said swiftly.

“It’s true,” Jack said. “I’ve got pictures.” He fished his cellphone out of his pocket.

“Oh no, not the pictures!” the Doctor protested. “I thought I used my sonic and wiped them all!”

“Which I knew you’d do,” Jack said as he tried to access them. “So I had them backed up.” He motioned for Alex to come closer. “See?”

Alex laughed harder at the pictures of the Doctor locked in the stocks and clearly not happy at all about it. 

“Give me those!” the Doctor said, attempting to swipe the phone.

But Jack held it just out of reach. “Not a chance.” He looked at Ginger. “You wanna see?”

But Ginger hesitated. “No, the real thing was much better. You had to be there in person to get the full effect.”

Jack nodded. “That’s true enough.”

“But what did he _ do _?” Alex asked. “I mean you were getting on so well, then you started being weird! I’m sure he did something, but what was it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, uncomfortably.

“I’m surprised you noticed how well they were getting along,” Jack said to Alex. “Considering you spent the whole time trying to impress your girlfriend.”

The Doctor and Ginger both looked to Alex sharply at these words.

“Your girlfriend?” the Doctor asked.

Alex glared at Jack. “She’s not my _ girlfriend _,” she sulked.

“But Kira _ did _kiss you after the joust,” Jack pointed out. “You gushed to me about it yourself.”

She spoke through gritted teeth. “Under the assumption that you’d keep a secret.”

“Wait, Kira kissed you?” Ginger asked. “Huh. Guess you don’t know the people you work with. Good for you, she’s pretty.”

“I told you, it’s nothing,” Alex replied, dismissively. “Just one kiss. We haven’t even seen each other since.”

“But you _ have _been texting,” Jack pointed out. “A lot.”

“Kira seemed nice,” the Doctor said. “For what it’s worth, I liked her.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, startled by how he wasn’t teasing. “It’s worth a lot. But like I said, it’s not really anything.”

“Why not?” asked Jack. “Why not just ask her out?”

“Because,” Alex replied, frustrated. “Because of something Luke said. When he and Sanjay were first getting together, things were hard because of the way people still are. Especially the way other cultures react to, you know...being gay. What if Kira likes me, but it doesn’t go anywhere because of her culture or whatever? Like I know 21st century England is probably the best place to be gay since ancient Greece, but-”

“What do you mean by that?” Ginger asked.

“Just that I could be in India or even in our country a hundred years ago,” she said.

Ginger nodded. “I mean, on some level, you’re right. But you’ve got to remember that places like India only seem less progressive because of British colonization. Most places in the world were cool with LGBT people until the British started enforcing their rules in places they had no business in. And history books _ really _ sanitize this history, _ if _ they bring it up. They like to present colonization as a good thing - as a way to civilize the barbarians. But _ we _were the invading barbarians, more often than not.”

"But we had all those fancy laws and morals and stuff, right?" Alex said, struggling to remember anything from her boring history class. "Stuff we held over from being a Roman colony before it fell?"

"Nah, because Rome didn't really fall, at least not in the way they tell us it did," Ginger explained. "See, western Europe devolved into tribes and barbarism after Rome was sacked. But the eastern half of the empire was fine. Turned into the Byzantine Empire. They continued to speak Latin and Greek at various times over the next thousand years. While places like England and Germany abandoned sanitary practices and forgot civilization entirely, the Byzantine Empire was studying philosophy, astronomy, art-"

"Maths, physics," the Doctor chimed in.

"Yeah, well, I won't hold that against them," Ginger said, dryly. She turned back to Alex. “And you said something about Greece?”

"Yeah," Alex said. "I mean, like, if there had to be any time I'd want to be gay besides now it would be ancient Greece, right?"

"Yeah!" Jack said. "A bunch of men fighting side by side, worshiping the male form! Would've been quite a time to be alive!"

"You're gross," Alex said, making a face.

"I’m not all that impressed with the ancient Greeks, if I’m being honest,” Ginger said. “I mean I love their mythology and am fascinated by them generally, but I don’t think I’d actually like to _ be _ there. For one thing, the ancient Greeks were super misogynistic and encouraged pedophilic relationships between grown men and young boys.”

“So are you more of a Roman fan?” the Doctor asked.

“I mean at least with them I actually speak the language. The most I know of Greek is ‘Einai Kalytero Anthropo Apo Ton Patera Toy’.”

The Doctor nodded. “You know that sentence isn’t actually grammatically correct, don’t you?” He changed the subject. “That didn’t answer my question, though.”

“I know a few things, but I'm mostly just up on the language."

“So,” the Doctor said, opening the question up to the room at large. “Who wants to go to Ancient Rome?”

Jack was the first to speak. “Oh I don’t know about that,” he teased. “You think we should go to Rome, Alex?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled.

“Because I think maybe we shouldn’t go to Rome,” he joked.

The Doctor looked between the two of them with mounting confusion. “Why not?” he asked.

Alex sighed. “It’s nothing. It’s dumb.”

A wide grin split Jack’s face. “When she was a kid, she had an imaginary friend-”

“She was _ not _an imaginary friend,” Alex mumbled.

“-She used to appear when Alex was going through really bad things-”

“She saved my life, alright?” Alex snapped. “Don’t know _ why _you won’t believe that she was real.”

“She called her the Masked Lady,” Jack continued. “Apparently she’d always show up in a cloak and mask and rescue Alex. I think it was a way for her to cope. But the Masked Lady never spoke. Except for once, the last time Alex saw her, when she was ten.”

“What did the Masked Lady say?” Ginger asked.

“She said ‘don’t let him go to Rome,’” Alex rolled her eyes. “Don’t know who she was talking about. Never found out.”

“Maybe that’s what this is all about,” Jack said, with pretend seriousness. “The Masked Lady’s prophecy coming true.”

“I was always told that I should go to Rome if I was ever given a chance,” Ginger cut in. “My theatre teacher always told me that all roads lead me to Rome. He said if I ever lost my way, Rome would point me back to where I should be. He was a sentimental sap of a man, but I’d like to go to Rome, if only to honor him. If that’s alright with Alex, of course.”

Alex crossed her arms. “Hey, it wasn’t my warning,” she said. “We can go if you want.”

…

"So what, are we gonna have to wear, like togas and stuff?" Alex asked, the moment they set foot in the TARDIS.

"Oh god no!" Ginger said, laughing to herself. "Jack and Doc will do the whole toga thing because they're men, but we should wear stolas."

"What's a stola?" Alex asked, frowning. "And why can't we wear togas? I thought everyone did that?"

"I mean, we _ can _ wear togas," Ginger explained. "If we want everyone thinking we're prostitutes." She blinked, that familiar determined expression coming over her. "On second thought, we _ should _wear togas."

"What?" Alex said, startled by this abrupt change.

"Yeah," Ginger replied. "Sort of a political protest thing. Girls can wear togas too, it doesn't make us immoral."

"Ginger, this is admirable," the Doctor said. "But you really want to look like a prostitute?"

"Yeah," she replied, defensively. "Prostitutes deserve respect and solidarity, you know."

"Well it's just..." he began, tentatively. "If you dress like a prostitute, people will _ treat _you like a prostitute."

"All part of the protest," she said, with a wave of her hand. "Live a day in someone else's shoes."

"I don't think you _ want _to be in their shoes, Ginger," he said.

"And why not?"

"Well, think about it," Alex cut in. "Prostitutes have to accept being touched and talked to by men."

Ginger blinked, letting that reality sink in. "So...yeah, we're wearing stolas. Final answer."

"So which time period are we going to?" Alex asked the Doctor.

"Ooooh can we go to the fall?" Ginger asked, excitedly. Then her eyes widened as she had a thought. "Maybe I can _ cause _the fall of Rome!"

"Easy," the Doctor said. "You don't want to go to Rome that far on. Trust me, I've been to Rome a few times and that's when it's at its most miserable.” 

"Why wouldn't I want to have definitive proof of the ultimate cause of Rome's destruction?" Ginger asked, incredulously.

"Because there are too many things there you wouldn't like," he said. "Famine, barbaric fighting, pestilence, Christians..."

"Ew, yeah," Ginger said, making a face. "Good call."

“Not saying you _ couldn’t _cause the fall of an entire civilization if you put your mind to it,” he added under his breath as he began setting a course. “You’re just destructive enough to pull something like that. Got a real knack for smashing things to pieces and not letting people talk you out of it.”

Alex and Jack felt a bit awkward hearing this, but pretended not to notice. Ginger, on the other hand, was a bit confused. She normally would’ve relished in a comment like this and had a snappy comment to say back, but his tone actually stung her a bit. So she said nothing.

“Oh also,” the Doctor added. “I’m not letting you bully me into a costume this time. I won’t be caught dead in a toga.”

She nodded. “Fair enough.” She thought it best not to press the issue. The fun of it was gone, anyway.

…

“We’re lost,” Ginger finally had to admit. They’d been wandering around Rome for ages now, and had no concept of where they were or how they were getting back.

“We’re not lost,” the Doctor said. 

“We’re lost,” she said, stubbornly. “I’m going to go ask for directions.”

"Not in Latin?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes in Latin," Ginger said, exasperated.

"That's not going to work," he said.

"Of course it will," Ginger rolled her eyes. She caught sight of a young woman with a basket walking nearby. "I'll just ask her."

"Wait, Ginger, the TARDIS translation circuit-"

But she wasn't listening. She'd caught up to the young lady. "Salvē!" she said, with what was supposed to be a bright smile but instead looked a little overeager. "Me adiuvāre potes? Oppidum centrum ubi est?"

The girl stared at her blankly for a moment. "Er..." she said, slowly. "I'm sorry, are you tourists? I don't speak Celtic, do you need directions?"

Ginger's jaw dropped; she was flabbergasted. 

"Sorry about her," the Doctor said, popping up by her side. "Her Latin's not so good. We're looking for the town center?"

The young lady gave them directions as Ginger stood by in silence. After she'd gone, she turned back to the Doctor. "Her Latin's not so good?" she asked, crossing her arms. "My Latin's perfect! And Celtic? Did he _seriously _just think I'm Welsh?"

"Your Latin is perfect," the Doctor agreed. "But the TARDIS translates whether you know the language or not. I learned that last time I was in Italy."

"It's annoying," Ginger huffed. "Turn it off."

"No! Why are you so annoyed by this anyway? You had no problem with it in Germany."

"I can't even string together a full sentence in German," she replied. "I took the time to learn this language and damn if I don't want to try it out."

"Have you tried learning languages that aren't, you know...dead?" Alex asked.

"I've been trying to teach myself Russian lately," she replied. "I'm not fluent, but I can hold a basic conversation."

"Ty, dolzhno byt', shutish'," the Doctor said, raising his eyebrows as if challenging her.

She bit her lip and looked upwards as if struggling to find the answer written in the sky. As she lost herself in thought, she ran her fingers through her hair. "Eh...V Sovetskoy Rossii...shutka delayet vas?" She clapped her hands and bounced a bit as she finished the sentence, looking proud of herself for stringing the words together. "Did I get that right?"

"Your pronunciation needs work, but it's passable," the Doctor grinned. "I'm a bit rusty myself. I rely on the TARDIS to translate most everything, so I fall out of practice."

"Hold on," Alex cut in. "If the TARDIS translates everything to the point that it interferes with Ginger showing off, then why didn't it translate those things you just said?"

"Yeah I didn't understand them either," Jack interjected.

"And you throw around a 'allons-y' and 'molto bene' like they're regular words too, shouldn't they be translated?"

"To simplify, it has to do with the way the translation system works," the Doctor explained. "It's deeply connected to the mind of the Time Lord who operates it. It's a circuit that needs me to operate. I can choose to bypass it if I wish for certain words and phrases. If I'm incapacitated or too far away, it won't translate for you anymore."

Ginger lit up. "So if I knock you out, I can try to speak Latin?"

"That doesn't explain why we couldn't understand you and Ginger just now, though," Alex said, firmly.

The Doctor considered this for a second. "I don't actually know," he admitted. "Finicky little machine. Could be mistaking Ginger for being on a compatible mental wavelength so it put us in a sort of psychic bubble? It's an interesting question. I sometimes think the TARDIS just decides to let certain languages slide for comedic effect."

"Are we going to stand here all day or did you get the directions?" Jack asked, reminding them that they were standing in the middle of the street.

"That's right!" the Doctor said, coming back to the present. "Follow me, this way."

They began walking in silence for several minutes before Jack spoke again.

"Alright, so you can speak Latin and a bit of Russian," he asked. "What else?"

Ginger sighed, as if the question was tiresome. "I speak fluent French and Japanese as well."

"Can you say Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?" Jack teased.

Alex swatted him on the arm. "I don't speak French and even I know what that means. Don't be gross."

“Good to have you back, Jack,” the Doctor said. "N'est-ce pas, Ginger?"

"Je vais vous tuer tous les deux," she grumbled.

"Anata wa jimaku nashi de anime o miru tame ni nihongo o mananda dakedesu," he quipped.

This got the most scandalized reaction of hers yet. She gasped audibly and whipped around, putting her hands on her hips. "Watashi wa anime o mita koto ga nai," she hissed at top speed. "Watashi wa rekishi to otogibanashi ga sukidesu!"

"Oh what did he say to you this time?" Alex said, exasperated.

"He insinuated that I only learned Japanese to watch anime," Ginger huffed. "Like I'm some kind of neckbeard who has a naked anime girl pillow."

"I watch anime," Alex said. "Not a lot of it, but a lot of what I've seen actually isn't bad."

"I didn't mean it like that," Ginger replied. "I'm just so tired of the reasons people assume I learned Japanese."

"Why did you learn it?" Alex asked, with interest.

"I was sort of vaguely interested in Japanese folk tales as a kid," Ginger said, vaguely. "But I read this book about this Japanese girl, Sadako, who died because of the atom bombs when she was younger than you. True story. It changed my life in a lot of ways. I still can't read Kanji, but I can speak phonetically."

"You're 23, you didn't finish school, yet you're fluent in several languages," the Doctor said, slowly.

"Yeah, pretty much sums it up," Ginger replied.

"You are such a Mary Sue," he said, grinning.

"Well if I'm a Mary Sue then you're a _ Gary _Sue," Ginger replied, slightly amused. "You seem like some guy's wish fulfillment to me." 

"Definitely mine," Jack replied, earning an eye roll from everyone else involved.

For a moment things seemed almost back to normal before the Doctor remembered that he was angry with her and turned away. She crossed her arms and looked away as well, trying to figure out why this simple action hurt her so much.

…

They dined outside a small restaurant at the center of town. The Doctor still wasn’t really speaking to Ginger, and without the steady stream of banter she found herself being oddly quiet as well. The most she said was when she tried to order her food in Latin.

The server looked at her apprehensively, a nervous smile still plastered on her face. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Celtic,” she said. “Are you foreigners? Can any of you speak Latin?”

The Doctor stepped in and they all ordered as they normally would. The TARDIS translated for them. But Ginger kept insisting on trying to order in Latin, all to no avail.

“For heaven’s sake,” the Doctor finally said. “She’s trying to say she’ll have the fish with bread and cheese on the side.”

The server took their order down and returned to the kitchen. Ginger briefly glared at the Doctor before sulking again.

"I will make the TARDIS bend to my will," she said, determined. "I _ will _get to use my Latin. It's just a matter of determination and will."

"If you say so," the Doctor said.

"Why do they all think she speaks Celtic?" Alex asked. "Why not Saxon? That was a language, right?"

Jack and the Doctor exchanged one of their secret looks that annoyed Alex so much.

"Good question," Ginger said obliviously, having not thought of this. "Why is that?”

The Doctor was glad to find something about language that she didn’t know. “Simple,” he said, smugly. “Saxon wasn’t invented yet.” He sipped his drink. “So have you noticed what day it is?” 

“No,” she said, sensing a trap. “I never asked and it’s not like there’s a sign saying it.”

“Oh?” was his reply. “But I thought you, being a master of time, would know.”

She finally understood what he was saying. “I said I always know what time it is, not that I always know the date.”

“And what time is it?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “It feels like 12:30 to me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It feels like?” He flagged down a server. “Sorry, can you tell us what time it is?”

“I believe it’s nearly 1 o’clock, sir,” the young woman smiled before walking away.

Ginger appeared vindicated, but the Doctor was deeply perplexed by this. “Alright, that has to be a lucky guess.”

“It’s not,” she said, defensively. “I just always know what time it is. My internal clock has always been right on the mark.” She moved on from this, clearly thinking it wasn’t a big deal. “Now, you were going to tell us what day it is?”

“It’s the Ides of March,” he said, simply. “I thought it would be a fitting day to travel to. You know, because of the betrayal and all.”

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Alex said. “The Ides of March? Isn’t that like...When Caesar got stabbed? We just read that play in class.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you watch it,” the Doctor said. “Everyone basically knows what happened, even if Will got a few of the specifics wrong. Will is a good enough writer that his deviations from actual history can be forgiven.”

“So what are we going to do?” Ginger asked. “If we’re not going to watch a man get stabbed to death, what’s the plan here?”

“I thought we’d just enjoy Rome,” he shrugged. “Maybe take in some culture, see some of these temples when they were new…”

Alex sipped her drink and looked across the Roman street. Her eyes landed on a hooded figure that was standing in the shadows of an alley. She blinked, and the figure was gone.

…

And so the Doctor and the others went out to explore Rome. They played the part of regular, if oddly-dressed, peasants, as they roamed about the city. They finally decided they'd had enough and decided to return to the TARDIS.

“I’m just saying it’s interesting that you’ve learned so many romance languages,” the Doctor said. 

Ginger rolled her eyes. “Don’t say it like that. You know full-well that they’re not called _ romance _ because they’re _ romantic. _It’s all to do with being derivations of Latin.”

“What interested you about Latin?” he asked.

“Harry Potter spells,” she admitted. “And I’ve had an interest in etymology since I was a kid. So many of our English words come from fascinating roots if you can just trace them back.”

“You just love investigating history, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah, well, it passes the time,” she shrugged. 

“The time,” he said. “I’m still very confused as to how you could always know the time. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well you’re a Time Lord, right?” Alex asked the Doctor. “Wouldn’t you have some innate sense like that?”

Ginger laughed suddenly. “_ Time Lord _ ?” she repeated, putting her hands on her hips. “Don’t tell me _ that’s _ what your people are called! That’s almost intolerably posh and self-important!” Then she suddenly realized. “Wait, I’ve heard you say that phrase once before...I just didn’t think anything of it at the time…” She made a face. “But _ time lord _? Really?”

The Doctor ignored her. “Being a Time Lord doesn’t give me that ability. As far as I know, no being in the universe has the ability to know with certainty what time it is without looking at a device. Besides, if you’re implying what I think you’re implying, I already checked Ginger to make sure she’s not some kind of alien. My scans indicated she’s 100% human.”

Ginger was suddenly livid. She stopped in her tracks and placed her hands on her hips. “_ Scans _ ?” she repeated. “What _ scans _ ? When did you do _ scans _ on me, Doctor, because I didn’t consent to them?”

The Doctor suddenly realized his mistake and stopped as well. “After the first time we met. You were sleeping and I wasn’t going to ever see you again, so I thought…”

“You thought you’d just what? Do a scan on me while I was _ sleeping _ ? That is _ so _invasive!”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t even think of it like that.”

The other two had stopped as well. Alex wasn’t liking this. She’d seen them fight and bicker, but they’d never been as angry at each other as they were on that day. Alex couldn’t bear to watch. She looked away and caught sight of someone lurking in the shadows. This someone was woman-shaped, though it was hard to tell because of the long black cloak that was draped across her shoulders. She was wearing a hood and a silver mask that covered all of her face. She realized she’d been seen and melted back into the shadows.

“Jack,” she whispered, tugging at his sleeve while Ginger and the Doctor bickered with each other some more.

“What is it?” Jack asked.

“I thought I was imagining it, but I just saw it again,” Alex explained. “It’s been 7 years, but I know what I saw. It was the Masked Lady.”

…

Jack convinced the Doctor and Ginger to stop fighting for a moment and focus on Alex, who was clearly shaken.

“I know you told me that the Masked Lady wasn’t real,” Alex said, looking at Jack. “That it was just my imagination because she only popped up when there was some sort of trauma. I even started to believe that since I haven’t seen her in so long. But she’s real, and I just saw her.”

“I’ll admit I considered the possibility that you were telling the truth,” said Jack. “But Owen convinced me that you were a scared kid with an imaginary friend.”

“Friend might be a strong word,” Alex said. “I always had this feeling that she was saving me for something.”

“For what?” Ginger asked.

“I dunno.”

“Even if the Masked Lady is real,” Jack said. “How would she get to Rome in this century?”

“Maybe she has some sort of time travel device,” Ginger said. “I mean, nearly anything’s possible.”

“Jack,” Alex said. “You have to believe me. The Masked Lady is real. And she’s here.”

Jack considered this. “I do believe you. I trust you. If you say you saw something, I know better than to doubt you.”

“So what do you want to do?” Ginger asked. 

“I want to draw her out,” said Alex, with a newfound determination.

"Let's get back to the TARDIS," the Doctor said. "We can come up with a plan there."

They walked around a bend towards the alley where they'd parked the TARDIS, to see an excitable teenage girl with dark brown hair waiting outside of it.

“It's true," she said, grinning triumphantly. "You've returned. Just _wait _til I tell my mother, she'll be so excited."

"Sorry," the Doctor said. "Who are you?"

"Cassia, sir," she said. "Mum always _said _you'd come back some day, but I don't think any of us actually believed her."

"I think you've got the wrong people," the Doctor said.

"Apologies, sir," Cassia said. "But are you not the Doctor of the Blue Box?"

This stumped him completely. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"No, sir, but my mother has spoken often of you."

"Your mother knew me?"

"Yes, sir. We always give thanks to you for rescuing her from the ashes of Pompeii."

"Pompeii?" he repeated. 

"Yes, sir, my mother is Evelina."

Then it dawned on him. "Evelina! Yes, right, I remember her! How is she?"

"She's getting so old now, sir," Cassia admitted. "I'm certain she would love to have a visit from the Doctor." She noticed Ginger. "And you, Donna, of course."

"Donna?" Ginger repeated. "Who's _Donna_?"

…

"Mother, I've found them," Cassia said as she led them through their house towards her mother. "The gods you spoke about. The Doctor and Donna. They've brought some friends."

Evelina wasn't yet 50, but the years had worn on her. "Doctor!" Her whole face lit up. "You've returned to us." Her eyes landed on Ginger. "But this is not Donna."

"That's what I've been _saying_," Ginger replied. "Who _is_ Donna?"

"An old friend of ours," Jack replied. 

"Ah," Ginger replied. "Another one of those that the Doctor's gonna decide fancied him?"

"Actually, Donna never fancied me," the Doctor said. "She was very clear about that. Absolutely platonic relationship. You and she are very alike, actually. Red hair, stubborn, loud..."

"She sounds like an absolute icon," Ginger replied. 

"Sometimes I think you two would've gotten along," the Doctor admitted. "Then again, sometimes I think you _really _wouldn't."

Evelina spoke again. "I was told to expect you."

“You were?" the Doctor replied, concerned. He knelt beside her chair. "Not more visions, I hope?"

She laughed. "Nothing like that. But I was told of a prophesy. One which has been interpreted in three ways depending on which of the three fates is vying for influence. You must choose a path and we’re determined it will be this one. It was said it would come upon the day when the great ruler would be felled. I verified the rumors myself - Caesar has been killed. Today is the day. And so you are the people I’ve been tasked with finding.”

“Us?” the Doctor asked, skeptically. “How can you be sure?” He very much didn’t like prophecies.

“It said to look for the Traveler-” Evelina replied.

“And of course that’s me,” the Doctor said.

“Actually, it was referring to her,” Evelina said, turning to Ginger.

“Me?” she asked, totally taken off guard. “But I’ve hardly been anywhere.”

Evelina sighed. “Not what it meant. I was told there will be four. On the day when the great ruler is felled. A child who knows the unspoken, a shipless captain, a lost warrior longing for peace, and a Traveler whose siren songs will bring him to his knees.”

“Hang on,” Ginger said. “Siren songs? This is the second time I’ve been called a Siren this month.” Something about that was troubling her.

“Wait am I meant to be the lost warrior?” the Doctor asked, slightly insulted. “What’s it trying to imply? How does it know I’m not the traveler?”

“It’s very clear that I will know the Traveler when I see her," Evelina said. "Hair like a rose was the word used to describe her.”

The Doctor had a visible reaction to this which his friends all noticed. “This is fucking weird,” Ginger shook her head. “Number one, prophecies are fake-”

“What is it asking that we do?” Alex asked.

“Go with Cassia,” Evelina said. "She will explain the rest."

...

"You have to become one of us," Cassia said as they walked down the street.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "One of...Us?"

“Yes,” she nodded. “A Vestal Virgin.” She looked disapprovingly at the Doctor and Jack. “Normally we’d require you to be women and...well, pure. But the prophecy is quite clear that we should make an exception.” She turned back to Alex and Ginger. “You two will do nicely.”

“Very presumptuous of you,” Ginger said, uncomfortably.

Cassia raised her eyebrows. “Am I wrong in assuming your purity? The prophecy was quite clear on the matter-”

“Yes, yes,” Ginger said, desperately hoping she wouldn’t finish that sentence. “Though I’d hardly say I’m pure in any other way.”

“What else must happen?” Alex asked.

Cassia looked earnestly at Ginger. “You must find a way to forgive.” She turned to the Doctor. “Not all, but at least each other. To go forward with this anger towards each other will only hurt you further. You cannot carry it with you.” 

...

Ginger and Alex changed into their stolas for the Vestal ceremony.

“So how are things going with Kira?” Ginger asked. 

“Pretty well, I think?” Alex said. “She keeps wanting me to go to this writing club she’s in. I know it’s stupid-”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Ginger replied. “I used to write stories as a kid. It was very therapeutic. I didn’t have much of an outlet for it.”

“I don’t really write though,” Alex admitted. “I don’t have any original ideas.”

“Neither did I,” Ginger smiled. “Can you keep a secret? I used to write Harry Potter and Good Omens fanfiction.” Alex laughed and Ginger frowned. “Oh come on, don’t mock. Most stories aren’t original. Back in the day, most stories were either Biblical or Arthurian fanfiction. We just build on the established cultural mythos.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Alex acknowledged. “I’ll think about it.” She began heading for the door. “I’m gonna go find Jack.”

Ginger was only alone for a few minutes when there was a knock at the door.

“Are you decent?” the Doctor asked.

“Never,” Ginger said, dryly.

The Doctor took that opportunity to come in. He and Jack had been allowed to retain their normal street clothes since there was no precedent for male Vestals.

Ginger rolled her eyes sullenly upon seeing him. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see a bride before her wedding?”

This caught him off guard. “Bride?” he repeated. “Wedding?”

She sighed. “Because this ceremony essentially acts like a wedding to the priesthood of Vesta. Surely you noticed how the clothes Alex and I are wearing are _ very _much like ancient Roman bridal wear.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” the Doctor said. “And doesn't that superstition _only _apply to the groom?”

She paused, realizing the implication she'd walked right into. "Shut up," she finally snapped.

"I thought you said you didn't know much about Rome, but you keep surprising me by knowing things I didn't."

“Yeah, well,” she brushed this off. "I guess I had some dormant knowledge rattling around in there. I told you my theatre teacher was obsessed a bit with Rome? When we were reading Julius Caesar he made us learn all about the Vestals, the traditional fashion..."

"You talk about him a lot," the Doctor said. "He clearly had an influence on you."

"Yeah, well, he was a strange man."

"How do you mean?"

"I don't even know what the man really looked like or what his real accent was," she explained. "He'd come in every day in a new costume with a new accent. Said it was supposed to teach us how to really get into character."

"Sounds method," the Doctor said. "And a lot like you."

"Yeah, I guess." She smiled briefly to herself. "I did have this stupid fantasy once or twice about him being my real dad..." She realized she was giving away too much and the smile disappeared. "Stupid, childish fantasies."

“How are you feeling about it?" He thought it was best to change the subject to something more current. "This Vestal ceremony?”

“I just think it’s funny.”

“What?”

“The concept that someone like me can be thought of as pure just because I…” She trailed off, noticing what she was about to say.

The Doctor noticed it too. “So you’ve never…” he began, delicately. “I mean…”

“I’m lucky,” Ginger said. “I played all those romantic leads, and not _ once _ did my director _ ever _make me even kiss someone. Got away clean on that.”

“That makes you lucky?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” she said, dismissively. “In case I haven’t made it clear, I don’t have any interest in associating with people.”

His eyes darkened as he suddenly remembered that he was still angry with her. “No you’ve made that very clear. Your determination to alienate anyone who would try to get close to you is-”

“Something you should’ve known about me from the start,” Ginger said, firmly. “Considering that I told you as much from the first time we met. But you keep pushing anyway, despite my warnings. I’m tempted to quote Shakespeare again: ‘If I be waspish, best beware my sting.’ You know, I actually don’t remember much from when I played Katherine, but that line stuck with me.”

“Katherine,” the Doctor acknowledged. “Yes, of course you’d relate to the shrew.”

She looked at him scornfully. “Actually I never really cared for that play. It's probably my least favorite one. But I, unlike Katherine, will not be tamed. I will not be victimized or dismantled.” She put her hands on her hips, annoyed with his attitude. “Why did you come in here? Just to ask me invasive questions and judge me?”

“I wanted to apologize,” he snapped, whipping around to face her again. “I was actually intending to apologize to _ you _, isn’t that funny? After the way I’ve been treated, and I’m still trying to take care of your feelings! But you know what? I shouldn’t bother! I don’t know why I even decided to keep letting Alex hang around someone as stubborn and mercurial-”

She laughed loudly and derisively. “_ Mercurial?” _ she scoffed. “I’m _ mercurial _? Look who’s gone native here! Now I’m easily influenced by Mercury? Freddie, perhaps, but that’s not what you meant. You meant that I’m volatile and temperamental-”

“Well you _ are _!” he insisted. “Just like the Roman god Mercury himself. Though I suppose you’d rather be insulted in the original Greek, wouldn’t you? Not in the Roman rip-off-”

She waved a hand dismissively and turned away from him to look back in the mirror. “Oh come on, the Romans didn’t rip them off. You should know better.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not _ defending _the original plagiarists, are you?”

She turned back to him. “Do they really not teach you this in Time Lord school?” she asked. “It’s not plagiarism, strictly speaking. Ancient Earth was just like that. All ancient gods were pretty much ripped off from somewhere. You know the Greeks didn’t even invent Aphrodite? Aphrodite was essentially a game of telephone started by the Sumerians. Inanna, Ishtar, Astarte-”

“Another woman with a million names,” the Doctor said, derisively. “One wonders if any of them ever knew her at all.”

Ginger caught his meaning and allowed herself to simmer a moment before answering. “I made it clear from the beginning that you would never know me. That’s the deal. Just like no one ever knows you. I don’t know how you can be angry with me for this when you give up so little about yourself.”

“You know it’s not about that-”

“So it’s still about me locking you in the stocks? Get over it. If you’re so angry with me after nearly two weeks then _ why _even bother coming back?”

“Because he can’t help it,” said a voice from the doorway.

They both turned to see Alex and Jack entering the room, flanking a figure in a black robe with a silver mask on her face.

“Hello, old friend,” the figure said, and you could almost hear the smile on her face. “It’s been a long time.”

“Has it?” the Doctor asked, perplexed by this. He turned to Alex. “The Masked Lady?”

She nodded. “Caught her lurking in the hallways. Jack and I trapped her and brought her to you.”

“Trapped is a strong word,” the hooded figure said, lazily. “I know you saw me earlier and I’ve caught other _ meddlers _in this timeline so I thought it couldn’t do any harm to let you get a win for once.”

“Other meddlers?” asked Ginger. “What do you mean?”

The woman ignored her. 

“Who are you?” Alex asked. “Why have you followed me around my whole life?”

“I’ve had to keep you safe,” she said, simply. “You’re very important, Alex Mitchell.”

“Me?” she asked, perplexed. “Important? You’ve got to be talking about someone else.” She got herself back on track. "When you told me to make sure he didn't come to Rome...Were you talking about this?"

"Yes," the stranger said. "The Doctor shouldn't've come here."

"Is he in danger?" Alex asked, alarmed.

"Not directly, not yet," the Masked Lady replied.

“You haven’t answered her question,” the Doctor said, moving toward her. “Who are you?” He reached forward and tried to take her mask, but felt an electrical shock run through him when he touched it.

“Sorry, old friend,” the woman apologized. “Can’t have you knowing who I am just yet. It will ruin everything if I step in before I’m needed. Of course, this timeline is already so far off course that even I can’t be entirely sure if it can be salvaged…”

“What do you mean?” the Doctor asked.

He could almost hear her roll her eyes. “None of you understand anything. It’s pitiful, really, how much you’re willing to just forget. This universe could become a very crowded place if you’re not careful, and yet you all act bewildered every time it happens.”

“If you’re talking about…” Ginger began, before stopping short just as she remembered Jack and Alex were in the room. “What I think you’re talking about...I’ve decided that wasn’t real. It was some...trick. Or hallucination. Sibyl was playing on the fact that I love the show _ Fringe _and she was some sort of con artist! Takes one to know one, you know? We couldn’t even find her later on! She completely disappeared!”

“That’s because she’s dead,” the woman said heavily, a trace of bitterness entering her voice. “Another real consequence of this game you play.”

“Dead?” Ginger asked. “What do you mean dead?”

“Is this prophecy real?” the Doctor asked. “Or is this just a ruse of some sort? Cassia said there were multiple interpretations.”

The Masked Lady sighed. “This order was founded by that meddling matchmaker,” she said, dismissively. “I lost a bet when you chose to come in here instead of choosing to stay away like I warned. He would have you forgive each other. But he should know after these centuries that you _ always _forgive her, Doctor. You can’t help it. No matter what she does, you always come back. For two such self-hating people, you really can’t help but forgive the very parts of each other that you loathe in yourselves.”

“You sound as if you don’t want us to forgive each other,” the Doctor said.

“I don’t,” she admitted. “But you will. As I said, you always do. Doctor, you forgave her the moment you realized what she was doing. You’re just angry that you’re not more angry. You want to have justifiable anger, but you can’t bring yourself to. You just gravitate back to her even when you tell yourself that you won’t.”

“This is all _ wildly _inaccurate,” Ginger cut in. “You don’t know us, you don’t know-”

“I do know you,” the Masked Lady said. “You’re a scared little girl who saw something she didn’t want to see and ran the other way. I’ll admit that your reaction was a complete surprise to me, but you didn’t need to punish the Doctor just because _ you _were scared of the implications!” She was becoming visibly frustrated, so stopped to catch her breath. “Look, it’s not time for us to meet yet, but you should know, Doctor, that you shouldn’t trust your feelings. And don’t listen to the Siren songs.” 

She pulled away from Jack and Alex and clambered up on a high table before anyone could stop her. “We’ll meet again soon, don’t worry. Hopefully one day you’ll understand and forgive someone besides _ her _.” She disappeared into thin air.

Alex was the first one to speak. “Alright, seriously, _ what the hell?”_

Cassia entered at that moment. "There you all are!" she said, a note of impatience entering her voice. "You're taking too long!"

"Can you wait for a little longer?" the Doctor asked. "I need to pop back to the TARDIS, just for a moment."

She hesitated. "We really shouldn't delay. We risk much-"

"Perfect, thank you," he said, pretending he hadn't heard her. He swept past her without another word.

…

“Where’s the Doctor?” Ginger asked. They’d been waiting for over five minutes for him to show up to the ceremony.

“He said he was popping back to the TARDIS for a minute,” Alex said. “Said he needed something there.”

Ginger groaned. “I _ swear _if he’s just ditching us-”

“I wouldn’t ditch you,” the Doctor said, rushing into the room. 

“Why not?” Jack asked, in a teasing sort of way that had just the tiniest bit of bitterness behind it. “You’ve ditched me before!”

“I guess that’s true,” the Doctor acknowledged. “And I might ditch Ginger just as revenge for ditching me. But I wouldn’t ditch Alex.”

“Wow, how comforting,” Alex said, dryly.

“Cassia isn’t happy that you’re late,” Ginger said. 

“There you are!” hissed Cassia, coming into the room in a huff. “Where’ve you been?”

“Sorry, I was just in my TARDIS-” he began.

"We've delayed much too long," Cassia hissed. "You'd better have a good reason for being so...so...Ugh, there isn't even an adequate word to describe what you are!"

Ginger had a sudden thought. "Hey Cassia, you know what I think? I think we ought to blame this on his machine and his driving skills. I mean think of it - he _and _his machine are intolerably slow! We should shame them both. I'm thinking that from this day forward, we ought to call anyone who is not on time _TARDUS." _

The Doctor's jaw dropped as he realized what she was doing. "Now hold on there-"

"No, I like it," Cassia said, savagely. "_Tardus..._I must make the final arrangements, excuse me..." She returned to her work.

Ginger smirked to herself. "First it's Tardus, then it's tardy..."

"Then it's other _not so nice _words," the Doctor reminded her.

She waved this away. "Be that as it may...Pretty good, eh?"

"I didn't think it was possible to be more annoyed with you," he replied.

"Oh come on! You've got a colloquialism named after you! That's pretty cool!"

"I don't understand," Alex said. "What did she just do?"

"One of the Latin words for 'late' or 'slow' is 'tardus'!" Ginger explained. "You guys, I'm out here just _inventing _Latin!"

...

The four of them were sworn in as Vestal Virgins, even as Ginger and the Doctor continued to have their misgivings.

“You haven’t forgiven each other,” Cassia said, frowning with disapproval. “That was a specific condition of the prophecy.”

“Can we go ahead with it _without _forgiving each other?" Ginger crossed her arms. "Because I've never forgiven anyone in my life. Not about to start now."

"The prophesy specifies a preference for you to forgive each other because it makes things easier, but I suppose it is not strictly necessary."

"Well get on with it, then! What do we have to do now?"

“Simple,” Cassia replied. “You have to rescue this young slave from his master. He’s just a boy, and not all of us agree with this practice of allowing slave masters to assert their dominance on their boy slaves.”

“Assert their dominance?” Ginger asked. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“It’s an old Greek practice,” Cassia explained. “But the high born men who do it here somehow made it worse. It’s suddenly about subjugation.”

“Oh,” Ginger said, as she understood it. “The Romans also managed to rip off Pederasty and somehow made it worse?”

"Essentially," Cassia nodded. "Marcus is 14 and he's waiting in a back room for you. If you can smuggle him out of the city to this address-" She handed the Doctor a piece of paper. "-Then you'll have fulfilled your mission."

"But why did we need to become Vestals to do this?" the Doctor asked.

"Because he doesn't trust anyone who's not part of the order," Cassia said. "Come, we must be quick. His master will have noticed-"

The door to the street opened and a very angry older man entered the room. "Where is he? Where's Marcus?" he boomed.

"We have no record of any Marcus here," Cassia said, stone-faced. "Please, sir, I must ask you to leave."

"No _woman _is going to tell me to go _anywhere_!"

Ginger crossed her arms and stepped up to him. "Who the hell are you, then?" she asked.

"I'm the boys master, Justus-"

She scoffed. "_Justus_? My _god_, you've got some nerve."

"You will return my servant to me-"

"Are you tryin' to step up to me?" Ginger asked, unimpressed. "You think you can intimidate me? Please, I've taken down men twice your size. So I'd suggest fucking off now before you get yourself into trouble."

"It is you who will be getting into trouble if you don't return my property-"

"Your _property?_" she repeated. "A person is not _property!" _She turned to the Vestals. "Quis est haec simia?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

Cassia chuckled darkly. "A rich asshole who's not worth the time of day," she replied, crossing her arms.

Ginger blinked, hardly daring to believe it. “Me intelligis?”

“Of course I do,” Cassia replied, perplexed. 

"I'm sorry," Justus replied, in a scathing way. "Didn't realize I was in presence of noble-woman."

She blinked again. "A _noble_-woman? Did he just call me a _noble_-woman? Are you trying to say I'm posh?"

"If you offer me a price," Justus continued. "I'll consider selling you the boy."

"He's not for sale," Ginger said. She punched him in the face, rather absently, and knocked him out. "Why the _hell _did he think I'm a noble woman?"

"Because you learned classical Latin," the Doctor said. "Classical Latin _was _a bit posh. Most commoners spoke Vulgar Latin, which is what Italian grew from."

"That's it," she said. "I'm never speaking Latin again."

"He understood you," he said. "_How _did he understand you? That shouldn't be possible!"

"I don't know,” Ginger said. "Why does it bother you all of a sudden? When we were talking earlier you didn't seem so bothered by it. The TARDIS is fickle and all that."

"Because it's all starting to stack up, all these anomalies," the Doctor said. "These things that I don't understand. You have some abilities that make no sense for any being - much less a human. I'd like to do some brain scans-" He caught the look on her face. "-But I won't because that's invasive and I apologize." 

…

Marcus was barely 14 and glad to be rescued by them. He was confused and bewildered by their time traveling ship that's bigger on this inside, but was too polite and afraid to say much.

"This bothers you," Alex said to Ginger. "This situation."

"Shouldn't it?" Ginger said. "I mean, he's a child and he's being taken advantage of."

"Yes, but this seems very personal to you."

She hesitated. "I just don't like people messing with kids, is all."

The TARDIS touched down at their destination.

Ginger looked at Jack and Alex. “Hey, Jack? Can you and Alex go help get Marcus settled? We'll only be a minute. I just need to talk to the Doctor alone.”

Jack whistled. “You’re in trouble now.” But he didn’t argue.

"Look, I really am sorry," the Doctor said, preemptively. "I shouldn't've scanned you without your permission. I didn't even really think about it at the time, but it was still invasive."

“I want to apologize,” Ginger said, stopping him in his tracks.

"Oh," he said, surprised by this. "You do?"

“Yeah.” She handed over a small phone to him. "I wanted to give you this."

“Is this what I think it is?” he asked.

She nodded. “Jack’s phone. I swiped it and hacked into it and even deleted the backup of the pictures. I wasn’t...ever entirely comfortable with the fact that he took those. I don’t like people taking pictures of me either.”

“Thank you,” he said, surprised. 

“Are you still mad at me?” she asked, a note of anxiety entering her voice.

He frowned. “You really care? What I think, I mean? That’s very unlike you.”

“How do you know what’s like me?” she asked. “I’m _ mercurial _, remember?”

“I’m sorry I said those things,” he admitted. “Truth is, I think the Masked Lady was right to some degree. But mostly I was hurt. I’d thought we were having a nice time, then you decided to run off and humiliate me.”

“We were having a nice time,” she admitted. “That was the problem.”

“Was there any truth in what she said about you?” he asked. “Were you afraid of what we saw?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I just...do things sometimes. Things that I know in the moment I shouldn’t do. It’s like the dominant part of me is steering me to do these mental things that seem totally rational to me while a backseat driver is sitting in my brain shouting at me that I’m being a loony. But I’m stubborn so I go through with it even though I feel bad about it while I’m doing it? I dunno...I don’t...understand what’s wrong with me sometimes. I got freaked out by what I saw our supposed Doppelgangers doing. That’s not something I’m familiar with myself doing and I wanted to make sure I’d never be in a situation where I would.”

“You don’t have to worry that it gave me any ideas. Screw whatever fates are trying to mess with us. We’re our own people and I don’t even think of you like that.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t,” he assured her. “I still have...feelings for someone else. Someone who won’t ever come back, but even still…”

Ginger understood suddenly. “Rose.” He looked up at her, surprised she knew that name. “Relax, I just remember you reacting to the name before.”

“My point is,” the Doctor pressed on. “That I’m not trying to be with you like that. I haven’t moved on. I may never move on. So you can feel safer knowing that I’m not taking any cues from what we saw and am _ very _willing to pretend we never saw it.”

“You’d do that? Just forget the whole thing?”

“If it’ll make you less uncomfortable. Starting now, the whole thing never happened. Deal?”

“Deal,” she replied. "Now I'd better take that phone back. Gotta slip it back in Jack's pocket before he notices it's gone."

…

When the Doctor dropped Ginger off at the theatre later, Jack followed her out of the TARDIS.

“Here you go,” Ginger said, handing him back his phone. “Thank you for deleting all of that for me. I know it was a loss for you.”

He smiled kindly. “It was. But I could see how the whole thing was affecting you two and...I couldn’t let it go on like that.”

Alex peeked out of the TARDIS. “Uncle Jack?” she said. “You coming?”

“You guys can go on without me, I left my car here, remember?” he replied. “You good here?” he asked Ginger.

“It’s Hell Week,” Ginger smiled. “My very favorite time in any production. I kind of thrive on this very specific type of pressure.”

“Because you’re insane,” he acknowledged.

“Stark raving,” she said. She turned to Alex. “You _ sure _you want to come help out on opening night? It’ll probably be very stressful for any people who don’t thrive on this stuff like I do.”

“I told you I’m in, didn’t I?” Alex rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you Friday.”


	14. I Put a Spell on You

_ "I'M BURNING _

_ I'M FUCKING BURNING." _

"Is this a movie score or is this another one of her weirdly cheery songs?" Alex asked, eyes wide.

"Personally, this was never one of my _ favorite _Jack Off Jill songs," the Doctor said.

"Okay, even if that's the name of the band, I am _ not _okay with you saying it," Alex said, making a face.

They'd come in through the stage door and were making their way towards the tech booth. They hadn't seen Ginger yet, but the music emanating from the booth seemed to be her doing.

Ginger entered from backstage wearing a large purple witch hat, a black dress that laced in the front with a wide purple and black tulle skirt that didn't even make it to her knees, which were encased in purple and black striped stockings. Her lipstick was dark purple.

"You look uncharacteristically chipper," Jack said. And it was true - there was just something about Ginger on this day that seemed more lively and energetic.

"Yeah, well, it's Halloween," she said, grinning.

"Not for another 29 days," the Doctor reminded her.

"Well, Christians get two whole months for their holiday, all I ask for is 31 days of Halloween," she grinned. "It's the best, most magical time of the year - I don't care what _ anyone _says!"

"The time of year when the veil between the world is thinnest and Ginger's energy returns from beyond the grave!" the Doctor said.

"Are we going to get started now?" Alex asked, calling them back to the matter at hand.

"Now?" Ginger asked. "No, there's nothing for us to do now."

"But you said to be here at 7," Alex said.

"Yeah, because that's call time," Ginger said. "But I've already run tests on everything and it's good to go. We don't have to be in costume or anything so we have free time."

"Free time for what?" Alex asked.

"I thought you'd never ask," Ginger said, eyes flashing wickedly. "Follow me."

Ginger led them up to the tech booth, which had an assortment of pizza and cookies out for them. "You can eat," she said. "Just keep away from the equipment. I'm sorry if I kept you guys waiting. There were some crows outside and I wanted to feed them."

The creepy song that had been playing stopped and was replaced by one that followed the Halloween theme.

_ "Here there be witches on the edge of town _

_ Cast them in water to see if they drown _

_ Cleanse them with fire to burn them down _

_ Bury their bones in hallowed ground." _

"You are in a bit of a mood today, aren't you?" Alex asked, amused.

"I like witches," Ginger replied. "I like badly behaved women in general, actually."

"You like women in general, actually," Jack said, under his breath.

“This is uncharacteristically nice of you, Ginger,” the Doctor teased. “It’s not secretly poison, is it?”

“What’s pizza without a little arsenic?” she smiled.

“So you were saying, Alex?” the Doctor prompted. “Something about a history report I can help you with?”

“Right,” she replied. “It’s supposed to be about colonial America. Thought maybe you and Ginger could help me out with it.”

Ginger considered this as if it were something unpleasant. “Colonial America? But that’s so _ boring _ , generally. I mean there are some definite legends and myths made up as a propaganda effort _ about _ that time, but honestly it’s not interesting unless you’re studying witch hunts - and I should stress that colonial witch hunts did not hold a _ candle _to the broader hunts in Europe at the time.”

Alex shrugged. “That’s the assignment, I didn’t pick it. I’m supposed to find out what life was like in colonial America for the average person.”

“Don’t they ever have you do assignments on anything _ fun _at that school of yours?” Ginger complained. “Don’t they make you read any Shakespeare?”

"They do," Alex admitted, reluctantly. "I just...find a lot of it sort of incomprehensible. Always liked Hamlet and Much Ado About Nothing. Oh and Mac-"

"WOAH! WOAH! WOAH!" the other three shouted in unison, moving forward as if to forcibly shush her.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ginger hissed. "You out of your mind?"

"On opening night too!" Jack replied, as if scandalized.

"What?" Alex asked, eyes wide.

"You _ never _say the name of that play in a theatre!" the Doctor said.

"You say 'the Scottish play' or nothing at all!" Ginger added.

"What, so you're not supposed to say Mac-" Alex began.

They all shushed her in unison.

"It's very bad luck," Ginger explained. "The word is cursed."

"But it's the name of a play! Of two characters in that play! What do you do then?"

"It's fine in that one specific context," Jack said. "Outside of that, it is very cursed."

"I wouldn't've thought any of you were the superstitious type," Alex said, amused.

"I'm normally not," Ginger said. "But I've seen this curse play out. I won’t risk it."

“Alright,” Alex said. “Then don’t we have time to go work on my report? If house doesn’t open for another hour...We can be back in time. We can go all colonial.”

Ginger exchanged a look with the Doctor and groaned. “This is going to be so boring, isn’t it?” She sighed. “Fine, I’ll go change. Even though I put _ so _much effort into this costume…”

…

Ginger was unhappy with the drab colonial clothes she was wearing, but said nothing as they exited the TARDIS.

"Ginger, I think we need some ground rules before we go in there," the Doctor said, crossing in front of her and refusing to let her pass.

She put her hands on her hips and looked at him incredulously. "Like what? You should understand by now that I don't follow rules."

"It's just one rule - actually. Don't tell people you're a witch."

She laughed. "Come off it."

"I need your word, Ginger."

"Like my word means anything."

"Ginger, please say it. Say that you _ won't _put us all in incredible danger by telling the locals that you're a witch."

She could see he wasn't about to let this go. She sighed. "Fine. Take all the fun out of everything." She smirked slightly. “You’re not worried about me, are ya, Doc?”

He rolled his eyes. “I just know how you like to go fanning a flame to make a point, is all. And you _ are _on this witch thing today. Plus you’re a prime candidate for people suspecting as a witch as it stands.”

“Why’s that?” Alex asked as she and Jack also exited the TARDIS.

“There were many reasons a woman could be accused of witchcraft,” Ginger explained, amused. “If they practiced medicine or took too many husbands-”

“Or took _ no _husbands,” the Doctor added. “Or were too pretty...” He glanced at Ginger then quickly away.

“Or too ugly,” Ginger said, having noticed the glance and not knowing what to make of it. “Women who were disabled were _ particularly _targeted, as were women of color. Basically any woman who was different was likely to be persecuted.” She said this last part with such striking bitterness that it had to be a personal issue for her.

The Doctor decided to change the subject. “There should be a town just up ahead. Let’s go get an idea of colonial life.”

…

They entered the small town to find it oddly quiet.

"I...don't like this place," Alex said, shivering. "It feels like...fear."

Ginger made a face at her. "Okay, Drama Queen, what the hell does that mean? Smells like fear? Honestly! Setting us up for some bloody _ brilliant _horror movie dialogue, you are."

"I'm just saying...something's wrong here."

They came to the town center, where a bonfire was being constructed. This gave Ginger pause.

"Huh."

"...What?" asked Alex.

"Nothing," Ginger said, not tearing her eyes away from it though she seemed a bit puzzled. "It's just...Doctor, don't you think this is a bit odd?"

"Odd how?" he asked.

"Oh come on," she said. "I mean...I wasn't under the impression that Americans _ did _witch burnings. Americans preferred the gallows."

He caught on. "So why's a wooden stake being constructed?" The Doctor flagged down a man who was passing by with a bit of kindling. "Excuse me, sir, is there an execution on today?"

The man replied in an English accent. "Yessir, didn't you know? Verdict came in, she's to burn in a few hours time."

As he walked away, Ginger turned to the Doctor. "_ England _ ? We're still in bloody _ England?" _

"This never would've happened if I'd been the one driving," Alex pointed out.

"You know I'm thinking about it," the Doctor said. "And maybe this little educational trip of ours is a bit...grisly for us? Maybe we should go?"

"No, didn't you hear?" Ginger asked. "They've got a witch burning on today! An innocent person is about to be executed! We should rescue her!"

"How?" Alex asked, immediately on board. "I mean, won't that be really difficult?"

"I haven't actually thought that part through yet. Think we need to do a little recon first? Figure out the facts of the case?"

They began walking. "I don't know about this," the Doctor said, nervously. "This seems unnecessarily risky-"

"_ Stop _!" Ginger said to him, tugging on his sleeve to pull him to a stop mid-step. "Don't. Move." She dropped to her knees.

"What...are you doing?" he asked, genuinely perplexed.

She got to her feet. "You were about to step on this little guy." She held out a small frog that she had securely cupped in her hands. She patted its small head like a dog. "Couldn't have you doing that." She looked around and noticed that there were some locals looking at them suspiciously. She smirked. "Come on, let's go find this little guy a well to climb in. Then we can poke around, find some stuff out about the supposed witch."

…

The townsfolk weren't too keen on the strangers - thinking them very suspicious. Their worst fears were confirmed when the four of them were questioning some people about the accused witch and Alex was suddenly struck with a feeling.

"Wait," she said to a woman. "This was you. You didn't like her to begin with - you're a liar using this witchcraft accusation to get an innocent person burned for a petty feud!"

The woman fumed. "Liar! You're the liar!" And suddenly Alex was being accused of witchcraft as well. Ginger, Jack, and the Doctor were all stunned - they didn't quite understand what had just happened there. Ginger was used to thinking quickly, so she did the only thing she knew how. She scooped up a black cat from a nearby alley.

"Here you are, my sweet," she said loudly, picking up the scrawny animal and petting it lovingly as it purred and nuzzled her face affectionately. "Where'd you go off to, my Lucy, my gift from the Devil himself?"

"Ginger, what are you doing?" the Doctor hissed, taking her roughly by the arm.

She pulled away and continued cradling the beast. "I see you have brought me the souls of little children to feast upon! What a good kitty!"

"Ginger, we said no telling people that you're a witch!" the Doctor warned.

"I'm not telling them," she muttered back out of the corner of her mouth. "I'm implying it. This is the only way. Plus I can gather intel from inside the prison."

"Ginger, no-" Alex warned them.

But Ginger released the cat and threw her hands to the sky with a witchy cackle. She grabbed a broomstick that was leaning against the side of a stone building. "By the power I command, I say this day there will be no burning!"

"She's a witch too!" someone shouted. "I bet all four of them are!"

"These three? They wouldn't know real magic if it bit them on the nose. I just use them as power sources." She gestured at Alex with the broomstick. "Take one step, and I kill this girl! I can kill you all with a finger, just you watch me! If you make a move on me, I'll have no more use for keeping these simpletons under my thrall anyway!"

Alex followed her lead and pretended to collapse to the floor, clawing at her neck as if she was being strangled by invisible hands. The Doctor and Jack realized what was happening as well - this was the only way Ginger could see not to drag the others down with her.

"Let them go, foul witch," a minister said. "You may still gain mercy from the Lord if you show mercy yourself."

"What need have I of mercy from your Lord?" She raised an eyebrow. "I bow to but one master."

Jack made the snap decision that Ginger had taken this too far for there to be any way through but forward. He moved quickly and tackled her to the ground. "Sorry," he whispered, after they'd hit the ground. She took his cue and pretended she'd been knocked out.

…

She was dragged to a cell to await trial, and wasted no time poking around. She saw that the cell next to hers was occupied and stepped up to the bars to speak.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Hey you!”

The dejected young woman looked up, brushing long brown hair out of her face. “Are you talking to me?” she asked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” Ginger replied. “You’re Katelyn, aren’t you? The one everyone’s talking about? Can you step closer to the bars so we can speak?”

“What’s the point?” Katelyn asked. “They’re about to burn me soon.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” she glanced around to be sure she wasn’t going to be overheard. “I’m here to rescue you.”

Katelyn frowned skeptically. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I know you’re not a witch,” Ginger replied. “Because I don’t like seeing girls get dragged down and persecuted. I know that life well myself. I’m on your side.”

Just then the cell on Ginger’s opposite side was thrown open and a blonde woman was thrown into it.

“Another witch,” the guard said, spitting in her face. “Your kind are becoming a blight on our proud nation.” He closed the cell door and locked it behind him before walking away.

Ginger realized with a shock who she was looking at. “_ Margot _?”

…

A few nights prior, Margot went to the designated rendezvous spot to deliver her usual progress report. She found herself shortly joined by a lady in a cloak with a silver mask. The lady took off her mask to reveal that she was the same Asian woman Margot had been scheduled to meet.

“What’s your progress?” the strange woman asked.

“I didn’t get anywhere today,” Margot replied. “It was hard to get away from rehearsal-”

“You’re going to have to do better than that. I’m starting to think you’re not even trying.”

“I’m trying-”

“Not hard enough, obviously. The Doctor and Ginger both ended up in Rome, despite my best efforts. I’m not certain what factor it was that swayed things because there are too many new variables, but they were completely unexpected. They didn’t get caught up in the romance of the city, which is a first for them. It would give me a tentative sort of hope if only he hadn’t immediately forgiven her and ended up having a stronger friendship with her because of it.” She sighed. “But that’s just how they are, I’ve accepted that.”

Margot was utterly confused. “I have no idea what any of this means. Why are you so obsessed with breaking them up?”

“That’s none of your concern. Your concern is being enough of a romantic distraction for the Doctor that it helps divide his loyalties. And clearly whatever you’re trying isn’t working, so I’m going to give you a mission. The Doctor will be at your opening night. He’ll arrive at 7, at which time you’ll slip out and hide in his TARDIS-”

“But shouldn’t I be getting ready?” Margot asked. “This could be my big break-”

The woman was getting frustrated. “Who cares about your big break when we could have a big _ breakthrough _? The Doctor’s ship will be parked in the alley. It looks like a blue police call box. You need to slip inside and open a panel in the floor. Once you're down there, carefully replace the panel and look for a sort of pirate chest. Open the chest, and you’ll find a crystal ball in it. Take the crystal ball and wait quietly. It’ll give you instructions. Do what it tells you, and you should be fine. Oh and Margot? You'll need to wear this.” She handed over a large black cloak that had very deep pockets. 

…

Margot found the crystal ball and was surprised that it was big enough that she had to hold it with two hands.

“Hello,” it whispered, pleasantly. “It has been so long since we’ve seen another pretty face...What is your name?”

“Margot,” she replied. “Who are you?”

“We’re your friends,” the voice said. “We want to help you. If you help us.”

Margot had a bad feeling about this. “Are you going to help me with the Doctor?”

“Doctor,” the voice had a brief note of bitterness before recovering itself. “Yes. We’ll give you any help you require.”

“What do I have to do?”

“We need to teach you words of power. That’s the only way to free yourself.”

"Words of power?" she asked, curious despite herself. "Like witchcraft?"

"Nothing so vulgar. It's word science.”

…

Margot said the words exactly as they were meant to be said and ended up being transported right to the center of the small town. Unfortunately, a large crowd was gathered for a witch burning, so she was immediately apprehended. She slipped the orb back into her pocket before it could be seen.

…

Margot told her everything - everything except the bits about being led into this by the strange masked woman.

Ginger groaned. “Margot, you idiot, you can’t just trust words from a strange orb - _ especially _one you stole out of the TARDIS! You shouldn’t’ve been tagging along in the first place!” She held out a hand. “Let me see it.”

Margot reluctantly handed it over, and it immediately began speaking to Ginger.

“Hello,” it said. “My, but you are a pretty-”

“Not pretty,” Ginger snapped. “And don’t try to butter me up, I’m not a lobster.”

“As you wish,” the orb replied. “My, but you do find yourself in a predicament. We could teach you words of power that would free you.”

“A tempting offer,” Ginger admitted. “Why don’t you do that, then? Unless this is some kind of trick and you’re using me?”

“Not a trick,” the orb said. “We merely want to show that we’re loyal friends. But please tell us...What is your name?”

“Later,” Ginger replied. “If this turns out not to be a trick, then I may tell you.”

…

Ginger quickly learned the words that were meant to free her. And they worked. The women were able to slip out of the prison unnoticed. 

“Now what is your name?” the orb asked, once they were free.

She laughed. "No, no, no I know this game. Like I'd go around giving out names willy nilly to a possible demon. Like I've never seen a horror movie or read a fairytale before! If you've been trapped inside this orb, I bet it's for a good reason. The Doctor wouldn’t keep you around without one.”

…

“That was incredibly reckless!” the Doctor said, once they were back in the TARDIS. “You put us all in danger-” He suddenly noticed Margot. “Oh hello. How did you...Sorry, what was your name?”

Margot was stung by this. “Margot,” she replied.

“Right, Margot,” he nodded. “_ How _did you get there?”

…

They got Margot safely backstage and the Doctor sat in the tech booth with the others, examining the orb.

“They’re witches,” the Doctor said. “That’s what you’d call them, anyway. They’re really Carrionites, and I trapped them in here ages ago. They were wreaking havoc and using Will Shakespeare to do it.”

“Shakespeare,” Alex repeated. “So you’ve really met the guy, Doc?”

“Sure have,” he smiled brightly.

“You guys ever do Shakespeare here?” Alex asked Ginger.

“I try not to let them,” Ginger admitted. “I’ll admit to having high expectations of the classics, and nobody here could do them justice.”

“You could,” the Doctor said.

Ginger pretended not to notice that he said that. “I did a lot of Shakespeare in my day. Started out running tech for Romeo and Juliet, then moved on to play the lead in the Taming of the Shrew and Twelfth Night.”

Alex smiled. “But not Mac-”

"Silencio!" Ginger said, clearly rattled. "You see that, now I've put a spell on you and you can no longer jinx this performance!"

Alex rolled her eyes. “Come on, this is such a ridiculous superstition. What’s the worst that could happen if you say Macbeth?”

“Alex-” Ginger warned.

“See, nothing happened!” Alex replied. “So I’ll say it again til it has no power over you! Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!”

The orb in the Doctor’s hand suddenly glowed red before settling back down again. They all stared at it.

“Well that can’t be good,” said the Doctor. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver. “They’re gone. The Carrionites...They’re all gone.”

“Where’d they go?” asked Jack.

He looked up. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

…

After that, everything that could go wrong did. Actors flubbed their lines worse than normal, a spotlight broke, and one of the actors actually broke his leg. This brought the performance to a stop even before intermission.

Ginger crossed her arms and glared at Alex. “Just a lot of hocus pocus, huh?”

Alex smiled sheepishly. “Sorry?”

Things were going pretty wrong for the Doctor too. It seemed that at every turn, he was either almost getting flattened by some prop falling from the sky or almost getting electrocuted.

“This is definitely the Carrionites,” he said. “They want their revenge on me and they intend to take it.”

…

Margot was feeling quite rattled and went back to the dressing room to get some water. She took a swig from the bottle and then almost ran into a red-haired woman when she turned around.

“Damn it, Phantom,” she snapped. “You startled me!”

“Not a Phantom,” the woman said, with a smile. And now that Margot looked closer, it definitely wasn’t her. “My name is Lilith. And I’m here to help you win the Doctor, just as I promised.”

Margot suddenly understood. “You were the voice from the orb!”

“Correct,” said Lilith. 

“What would I have to do in exchange for this?” Margot asked, suspiciously.

“My sisters and I were freed from the orb when our Macbeth curse was fulfilled,” Lilith explained. “But my sisters didn't survive the journey. You’re to help me get my revenge."

"Revenge?" Margot repeated. "I don't like the sound of that. You're not gonna hurt him, are you?"

Lilith waved a hand and put Margot into a semi-trance - making her more pliable without actually taking her free will completely. "I think it's time to teach you more word magic, Margot."

…

The Doctor came around a corner looking for Ginger, and ran into Margot instead. Margot didn't realize it, but she was still mildly hypnotized. She was being made to sabotage this play she'd worked so hard on.

“I’m sorry,” Margot giggled. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“You’re awfully chipper,” the Doctor said. “Considering your whole play just got wrecked.”

“Yeah, well, the show must go on, right?”

“...Not in this case, no.”

“Listen, I’m actually glad I ran into you…”

Ginger had been in a dressing room looking for the director, but exited at this moment to see the next events transpire. 

Margot stepped closer to him, fidgeting and fluttering like an anxious butterfly. “I actually wanted to...Well, I mean, you must’ve guessed by now that I like you. A lot. And I’ve been trying to work up the courage to, well…”

The Doctor had been a bit dense up until that moment, but even he couldn’t ignore the blatant signals she was sending out. “Oh,” he said, awkwardly. “Well I’m...I’m flattered, Margot, really I am. You’re really, ah, pretty and everything…”

Margot smiled and kissed him, which took him aback enough that he stumbled back a few paces with his eyes bulging. Ginger smirked and walked away to leave them to it.

The Doctor broke away. “Margot! Normally I’m not one to complain but...give a guy a _ little _warning! Look, I’m just...I’m not interested, I’m sorry.”

“But I...I love you,” Margot said. “I’m _ in _love with you-”

The Doctor suddenly felt sorry for her. “Margot, you’ve only spoken to me a handful of times. You don’t really know me. How can you love someone you’ve only barely met? Are you in love with me or are you in love with some idea of what you think I might be? I’m sorry, but...it’s just not going to happen.” He walked away.

Ginger instantly accosted him.

“_ Margot _ ?” she laughed. “ _ Really _?”

“You saw that?” the Doctor asked, embarrassed. “It was nothing.”

“Oh I know _ that _ ,” she replied. “You couldn’t’ve been less into that kiss if you were Zachary Quinto kissing Kristen Bell on _ Heroes _.”

“So you’re not...bothered by it?”

“Why would I be bothered by it? It was _ funny _.”

“Oh come on, don’t be mean,” the Doctor said. “I didn’t exactly let her down gently, as it is.”

Ginger rolled her eyes, still enjoying teasing him immensely. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s get you out of here before you break any more hearts.”

...

Ginger returned backstage a few moments later to find Margot sitting off to herself crying. She suddenly felt a bit bad for her, but was determined not to show it. It wasn’t her business, after all. She tried to walk past her unnoticed.

“Well that’s it,” Margot despaired. “You’ve won.”

“Won?” Ginger asked. “I don’t know what about my life could be misconstrued as winning.”

“You’ve got him,” Margot sniffled. “I tried...maybe not hard enough, but I did. I really do like him, you know, it’s not all just…” She sighed. “But it’s you. It’s always you. Even though you do nothing to deserve him.”

“I don’t _ want _ him,” Ginger insisted. “I actually think it’s tragic that you _ do _ . Like your type is seriously wack, sister. _ Him _ ? _ Really _? You’re like...way out of his league, at least looks-wise. I pity you, honestly. I pity anyone who catches feelings for anyone. They’re just not as evolved as I am.”

Margot laughed. “You keep telling yourself that. You two are so clearly made for each other. Not even casting spells and making deals with witches could tear him away-” She realized she’d said too much.

“Margot,” Ginger said, slowly. “What did you _ do _?”

…

“She said her name was Lilith,” Margot explained to the group. “I thought she was the Phantom at first.” She glared at Ginger.

“So you made a deal with her,” the Doctor said.

"I think she's done something to my head," Margot admitted. "I keep doing things I wouldn't normally do."

“That sounds like their kind of hypnosis." He shone his sonic on her. "Yeah, you're mildly hypnotized. But that should break when we trap her. Luckily, I’ve faced them all before. I know exactly how we can draw her out and defeat her. You might want to leave.”

“Not a chance,” said Margot. “It’s my fault, so I’m helping.”

“It’s equally my fault,” Alex acknowledged. “I set them free.”

“So what do we do?” Ginger asked.

“Right,” the Doctor clapped his hands. “Alex, you’re on sound. I’ll be on lights. Jack, you’re on dialogue, and Ginger you’re on vocals.”

“And what do I do?” asked Margot. 

“Just stay out of my way,” Ginger said, dryly. “I don’t understand, Doc, what are we doing?”

The Doctor put on his glasses. “We’re putting on a show.”

…

Margot came to gather her things while Ginger was changing into yet another costume.

“What, leaving so soon?” Ginger asked, sarcastically. “Bailing just because we didn’t give you a good part? You’ve got to earn that, Margot.”

“I’m sorry,” Margot said.

Ginger was surprised to hear this and turned to face her. “I don’t think I heard you right. That almost sounded like an apology.”

“I said I’m sorry, alright?” Margot said, frustrated. “I’ve been hard on you since the first moment I met you. And it wasn’t...fair or mature of me to be constantly making your life miserable.”

“I’m used to it,” Ginger said. “Don’t think you’re the first actress to be threatened by me and lash out because of it. I just want to be left alone to do my thing. Why is it so hard for you people to understand? I was never out for your jobs. I can’t be. This is what I’m doing with my life, and that is at least something.”

“I just want to feel special,” Margot said. “I’m the youngest of four girls and they all...did special things, you know? Nobody ever noticed me. So I decided I wanted to make them notice me. But nobody believes I can do this.”

“You’re only doing this to get attention?” Ginger asked, incredulously. “That’s a horrible reason. Do you even _ like _acting?”

“I do,” Margot said. “I just don’t think I’m any good at it.”

“You’re not,” Ginger admitted. “Sorry to be blunt, but you’re not.”

“Wow,” Margot rolled her eyes. “Great constructive feedback. Nice note.”

“Someone has to tell you the truth,” Ginger said. “You’re not putting enough effort into being good, you’re only barely skating by. The truth is, Margot, that you’re gonna die here. I don’t mean that literally, though that’s also possible. I mean you’ll keep doing mediocre plays for this mediocre theatre until you die, because this place will rob you of your dreams and trap you. That’s alright for people like me who know they can’t do better. But you’re still young. You can have a life. My best advice is to figure out if you really want to act, then go out and actually do it. But get an acting coach _ first. _I’d be nowhere if I didn’t have a great coach...though, of course, I’m still nowhere. Point is, Margot, that you’ve gotta get out of here. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

...

Lilith came to claim revenge on the Doctor, just like they knew she would. She walked down the center aisle of the auditorium just as a single spotlight lit up centerstage. Ginger stepped up to the mic wearing what can only be described as a Morticia Addams dress and a witch hat.

“You again,” Lilith said. “You ready to give me your name, now?”

“Not a chance,” Ginger said. 

“Curious that you haven’t merely pulled one from her yet,” the Doctor said into a microphone that amplified his voice across the entire auditorium.

Lilith whipped around, trying to find him. “Doctor,” she said, bitterly. “I knew you’d be here. And believe me, I’ve tried to find a true name for this one. I’ve scanned her mind and found nothing. Almost something, but still nothing. I don’t understand it.” She turned back to Ginger. “Why are you truly nameless? I’ve never encountered anything like it.”

“Guess I’m just nobody,” Ginger shrugged. She nodded to the tech booth. “Hit it!”

An old jazz melody began playing as Jack emerged from behind the curtains.

_ “I put a spell on you,” _ she sang, extending a hand to the tech booth. _ “And now you’re mine…” _

Jack spoke lines from Macbeth during instrumental breaks of the song, and the Doctor came down from the tech booth to do his part in trapping her back in the orb. Margot could see the look on the Doctor’s face while he watched her sing, and that stung a bit. So she hastily slipped out unnoticed.

The song finally ended and Alex looked at the Doctor smugly. "You can close your mouth now, you'll catch flies."

The Doctor hastily tried to compose himself. "I don't know what you mean."

She laughed. "Oh come on! You're _ so _ into her! I thought it was just a dumb puppy love crush and was _ really _gonna give you payback for how you teased me over Kira, but the way you looked at her just now! It's so much grosser than that!"

"You're really reaching, Alex," he said, clearly uncomfortable.

"She put a spell on you," Alex insisted. "And now you're hers. I mean, the look on your face!"

"What look?" the Doctor asked. "How, exactly, do you think I was looking at her?"

But at that moment, Ginger and Jack walked over to them.

"That was so _ cool _, it actually worked?" Ginger asked.

"That was...I mean you were...very good," the Doctor stammered, lamely.

"Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic," she said, suddenly looking like her awkward self again. But she seemed pleased, which was different for her.

"Well I hope you learned your lesson, Alex," Jack said, beginning to clean up.

"I sure did," she replied. "I'll never even speak about the Scottish play again as long as I live."

"And the moral of the story is..." Ginger said, smiling to herself as she sat on the edge of the stage supervising.

“What _ is _the moral of the story?” Jack asked. “I’m a bit confused on that myself.”

“The moral,” Ginger said. “As always, is that humanity is inherently evil and will do bad things to each other for stupid reasons.”

“Humanity?” the Doctor asked. “But this was Carrionites! Not humans!”

“But you forget, Doctor, that this whole thing started because we went to colonial times and I almost got burned at the stake. Witch burnings are proof of how humanity en masse is just horrible.”

“I simply don’t agree with that,” the Doctor said, frowning. “I’ve seen the very best and worst in humanity and I think you all want to be good at your core! I mean look at people who volunteer after natural disasters-”

“I hear that,” Ginger said. “And I raise you serial killers.”

“What about people who donate to charity?”

“None of that cancels out the fact that humans are proven to be violent and cruel! It was proven in the Stanford Prison Experiment-”

“The Stanford Prison Experiment?” the Doctor said incredulously, moving forward so that he was standing right in front of her. “Really? I thought you were smarter than that! Have you even _ read _ those results? It wasn’t proof that humanity gravitates towards authoritarianism, it’s proof that affluent white men are more likely to gravitate towards that kind of behavior! Their sample size was _ exclusively _that subset of the human population, so it can’t possibly be an authentic representation of humanity as a whole since not everyone is socialized the way rich white men are!”

Ginger felt as if she were really properly seeing the Doctor for the first time, and momentarily forgot to breathe. She was just noticing that he was so much taller than she was. "Eh...yeah that's..." She swallowed hard. "That's...That’s a good point. Didn’t think of it like that. Guess I didn’t, uh, didn’t look into it."

“What, you’re not going to argue?” the Doctor asked, surprised.

“Why would I argue?” Ginger asked. “It’s genuinely a good point.”

They just looked at each other for a minute before Alex cut in.

“Actually, you’re both _ sort of _ wrong,” she said. “We just read about this in class, and you should know that it’s thought that the students in that experiment were TOLD to do those horrible things, so like even if it was just a suggestion they still influenced the result. We can’t say for sure that those are natural things they would’ve done anyway or if the idea was given to them. So I’ve gotta say that neither one of you are really thinking about the experiment. _ You’re _ thinking about Lord of the Flies, Doc. And _ you’re _thinking of Children of the Corn, Ginger.”

Ginger and the Doctor both blinked rapidly, letting Alex’s words sink in without actually looking away from each other. 

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” the Doctor said. “I’d like to read your sources, of course.”

“Good argument,” Ginger nodded. “Very good argument...I’ll do further reading.” She kept looking at the Doctor. “Have you worn those glasses before? I don’t remember ever seeing them before...They’re like...almost exactly like mine.”

"So when will we see you again?" the Doctor asked Ginger, somewhat obliviously.

"Uh...why don't you come back for a Sunday matinee some time?" Ginger asked, snapping out of it.

"Week after next, then?" the Doctor asked.

"No I don't...uh..." She spotted an abandoned flyer on the floor and picked it up. "I’m, uh...busy. The 18th. Come back the 18th. That's a good day for me, the 18th."

"That's more than 2 weeks from now," the Doctor said.

"I'm very busy," she said, hopping down onto the main floor and backing away. "I'll take care of the rest of this. You guys can go ahead home. I'll see you on the 18th." And without another word, she disappeared back up into her tech booth.

Alex appeared next to him and tugged on his arm so he'd have to bend down slightly for her to whisper in his ear. "That was the look," she said, grinning cryptically.

…

Margot met the masked woman in the park later that night.

“Rough day?” the woman asked. “You look a little red around the eyes.”

“I’m out,” Margot said. “I’m done. He’s never going to love me.”

“Well of course not,” the woman said. “The plan was never to get him to love you.”

“I’m confused.”

“You always are, but I thought I made myself clear. You were supposed to be a distraction. He always loves her - it’s like a sickness, he can’t quite help it. Nobody who actually knows the stakes would think for a second that you’d win against her. No, you were simply meant to stir her up. Ginger is jealous and possessive, and the Doctor has never liked that quality about her.”

"Jealous?" Margot asked. "Possessive? She _saw _me kiss the Doctor today and only thought it was funny. It didn't bother her at all."

The woman was surprised. "Really? Huh. I honestly didn't see that one coming. I'll have to rethink my strategy."

“Like I said, I’m out,” Margot said. “After the play’s over, I’m leaving. Going back to school. I can’t keep holding myself back for other people.”

“Then you’re more mature than they ever were,” the woman said. “More power to you. You’re no use to me anyway. I still have one long-term player in this game, and this one will save us all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the first of the Halloween episodes. I don't do just one - I do them the whole month of October! But I'm afraid I'll be taking next week off from posting again. I'll be back soon!


	15. Bela Lugosi's Dead

The Doctor picked up Alex and Jack from Bannerman Road and began keying in the coordinates. He frowned.

"What?" Alex asked, picking up on his hesitation.

"She's got us landing on a Sunday," he complained. "I never land on Sundays. Sundays are boring."

She rolled her eyes and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll get over it."

...

Ginger watched as the Doctor, Alex, and Jack made their way to her tech booth before the play started.

"What are you doing here?" she asked when they arrived.

"It's Sunday," the Doctor said.

"The 18th," Alex added.

"You said we could come by for the Sunday matinee," Jack contributed.

Ginger's blank look slowly morphed to one of understanding. "Sorry," she said, actually seeming surprisingly apologetic. "I completely spaced and forgot you were coming today."

"It's alright," Alex said. "We forced you into a routine with us and then we got out of it for two weeks. Spacing isn't unheard of."

"Why did you need so much time anyway?" the Doctor asked.

Ginger absentmindedly began rubbing a spot on her left forearm, an action she was totally unaware she was performing. "It's been busy," she said, vaguely. "Had to get the show back on its feet. Had to rebuild sets and equipment, remake costumes...I needed two weeks to do my job."

"Have you ever thought this theatre is cursed?" the Doctor asked. "I've seen two plays get put on here and opening night always gets destroyed by something or other. Maybe it's the Bacchus association?"

Ginger smiled to herself. "You know that's sort of part of why I picked this place? Like yeah it was because the Roman god was a chill guy or whatever, but the Christian morality outrage...I liked the idea of a good, old-fashioned Bacchanal. Plus, I mean, Dionysus himself was another one of those murky gods with weird origins. Dude wasn't always so chill. Mellowed in his old age."

"Wait, wait," Jack raised his eyebrows. "Go back to the part where you said you enjoy Bacchanalia."

"In theory," she chuckled. "According to most modern scholars, Bacchanals weren't the hellish rites that Christians painted them to be. But I _do _enjoy the scandal. Anyway, I don't think this has anything to do with that. Last time you were here, Alex invoked the Scottish play. _That's _why it all went wrong." She got to her feet, revealing that she was wearing a long red satin dress with a voluminous ruffled skirt that ended just above the ankles. A black corset was tied loosely just over the bodice of the dress, while a black hooded cloak was loosely draped (but not tied) over the entire ensemble. She noticed how everyone was staring at her dress and quickly crossed her arms. "Alright, okay, I was in a vampire mood today, don't make it a big deal."

The Doctor was very amused by this defense. "I didn't peg you for a vampire girl, myself. Thought you were a slayer."

She shrugged. "Sometimes I'm a slayer, sometimes I take after my true love Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and become a rogue demon hunter-"

"Wait, I thought Dark Helmet was your true love," the Doctor laughed.

"Why should I limit myself to only one true love?" Ginger argued, rolling her eyes.

"But Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, though?"

"Not _Buffy _Wesley!" she immediately jumped to the defensive. "He annoyed me to hell the first time though too, but I will fight to the death to protect that boy's innocence. He's not even fully formed yet in early _Angel _either. My true love is the Wesley from the middle seasons who made bad decisions and got sort of dark. It hurts to see him like that, but I'm into it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Alex cut in. "But you're so weird."

"Bite me," Ginger said, good naturedly.

"But today you're not a slayer or a rogue demon hunter," the Doctor pointed out. "You've got the whole vampire thing going on. Why's that?"

"Oh come on, Doctor, it's really not that difficult," Jack said, rolling his eyes. "Vampires are hot."

"See," Ginger said, gesturing at Jack. "Jack gets it."

"Really?" the Doctor asked. "That's the reason?"

"Have you _seen _Drusilla or Darla?" Ginger asked, shaking her head. "I rest my case."

"You alright?" Alex asked, picking up on a sort of nervous energy Ginger was giving off. "You seem a mite jumpy today."

"Not jumpy," Ginger said, scoffing a bit. "Restless, maybe."

"Well perfect!" the Doctor said, clapping his hands together. "Where should we go after the show? It's our first time having a whole evening to ourselves, we could do anything."

Ginger rolled her eyes. "Might as well head on over to Transylvania, then," she said, sarcastically. "Get some quality slayage in before dinner."

The Doctor missed her sarcasm completely. "Brilliant! A perfect little Halloween adventure!"

...

"Transylvania nächste!" the Doctor exclaimed, throwing a final lever and spinning abruptly on the spot to face the group. "All aboard for Transylvania!"

"Pardon me, boy, is this the Transylvania station?" Ginger asked, trying to play it off as just completing the reference but betraying herself as being actually amused.

"Ja, ja-" the Doctor began, before narrowing his eyes. "Wait, you're not bringing that with you, are you?"

"What?" Ginger asked, instinctively clutching her Marauder's Map bag tighter with one hand. "Yes of course I am."

"You can't bring that out there!" he protested. "Harry Potter wasn't invented yet."

Ginger stared him down. "This dress doesn't have pockets."

"And?"

"And," Ginger repeated, as if this were matter of fact. "I need to transport things. You wouldn't understand, you're not at the mercy of Big Fashion's conspiracy to keep women dependent on purses."

"It's true," Alex interjected. "If they give women the pockets then they won't have to rely on the hand bags. And the hand bags are expensive."

"So you see, I have to bring it," Ginger said, as if this settled it.

"No you don't," the Doctor argued.

"Yes I do," she replied.

"Why is that?"

"Because it's better to be prepared?" Ginger argued. "What if we need pepper spray? Or a flashlight? Flashlights are dual purpose, you know. You can use them to see or you can use them as weapons."

"You're not going to need any of that," the Doctor said. "Leave the bag, just this once."

Ginger hesitated, then sighed as she threw the bag on the floor. It made a rather disproportionate clunk for something its size. "Fine. But don't blame me if this all goes sideways and I can't save you."

"And for another thing," the Doctor continued. "Is that what you're going to wear?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What's wrong with my outfit? I'm certainly not going to let some man tell me how to dress."

"I didn't mean-" He sighed, realizing he'd walked right into that one. "I just meant you're always the one wanting perfect historical accuracy and you're going to wear that."

"I'll tie the cloak over it so nobody will notice," she rolled her eyes, moving to do that.

"I'm just...surprised, I guess. You're usually so rigid about the historical accuracy."

She shrugged. "Yeah, well, you didn't wear the toga last time and nothing happened. I figure, what's the point?"

...

When the group had set out in 17th century Transylvania, it had merely been a gloomy and overcast day, but it devolved quickly into a freezing rain. 

"We should've brought an umbrella," the Doctor lamented.

"No, that's okay," Ginger said through chattering teeth. "I'm Only Happy When It Rains."

They were walking through the rain through an empty street, trying to head back to the TARDIS. Ginger had tried to suggest that they head for the castle on the hill, but the miserable weather was dampening everyone's sense of adventure. Despite the conspicuous lack of a moon, a wolf howled in the distance.

"Werewolf?" Jack joked.

"There wolf," Ginger said, automatically.

"There castle," completed the Doctor.

"Why are you talking like that?" Alex asked, completely oblivious to the reference.

"I thought you wanted to," the Doctor and Ginger said together. Ginger cracked a smile then and turned to him with what was almost a laugh before it died in her throat by looking at him. She cleared her throat and looked away. The Doctor noticed this and was a bit concerned.

"You feeling alright?" the Doctor asked, echoing Alex's earlier question. "You're being...weird."

"Weird how?" Ginger asked.

"You _do _seem a little jumpy. You haven't snapped at me properly all day. And you're being uncharacteristically optimistic."

"This isn't optimism," Ginger replied.

"It's an absence of overt pessimism," the Doctor observed. "Which on you counts as optimism."

Ginger shrugged, choosing not to give the matter much thought. "It's Halloween."

"Not for another thirteen days," he reminded her.

She shrugged again. "A very beautiful number."

Suddenly a great clatter of hooves resounded from behind them and they hastily moved to the side of the road to accommodate for the large stage coach passing through. It pulled to a stop just in front of them. A boy popped out, probably no older than 14.

"How do you do?" he said, with a practiced formality. "My mistress has spied you walking in this downpour and inquires as to where you fine people are travelling on such a night. She offers either safe passage in her coach if it is within distance or accommodations within her castle for the night."

"Well I'm in already," Jack said, shivering. "A warm bed in a castle sounds nice."

"Wait just a second," Alex said, holding up a hand. "We don't know these people. Didn't you always teach me stranger danger?"

"Good point," Ginger said, nodding wisely. "Never get in the stage coach unless they offer you candy. Does your mistress have candy?"

"Not within the coach, miss," the boy said, shivering in the rain himself.

"It's Halloween and you don't have candy," she joked, feigning exasperation. "You deserve all the tricks you get."

"Halloween, miss?" the boy asked.

She was at a loss trying to figure out how to respond. "October."

"No, miss," the boy said. "Apologies, but it is December the 30th."

Ginger crossed her arms and turned to the Doctor. "December, Doctor? Fucking _December_?"

He couldn't help but smile. "There she is."

At that moment, lightning lit the sky while thunder seemed to crack it open.

"I say we get indoors any way possible," Jack said.

"Agreed," Alex conceded.

"Hang on," the Doctor asked. "Who is your mistress, boy?"

"The Countess Bathory of course, sir."

This time he and Ginger really did exchange a look. "Oh we're _so _not turning this opportunity down, Doc," she said.

"Wait, I know that name," Alex whispered, looking vaguely concerned. "If it's the Bathory I'm thinking of, she was the one who bathed in virgin blood, right?"

"Allegedly," the Doctor said.

"It's goth as fuck," Ginger said.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," Alex cautioned.

"Neither is standing out in the rain," Ginger protested. "Come on, I'm officially peer pressuring you. Let's go see the truth about Elizabeth Bathory." She looked at the boy, then. "We're in."

"Actually, you seem to still be out, miss," the boy said.

"Oh that would be _excellent _word play and banter if this were a few centuries later," Ginger said.

"Anyone else feel like Edmund being offered Turkish Delight by the white witch?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, see, I never understood that," Ginger replied. "You abandoned everything for Turkish Delight? That stuff tastes like soap."

...

Though the stage coach was large, it was still a bit cramped between the four of them, the boy, and the Countess Bathory. Even Ginger couldn't help but find Elizabeth Bathory slightly intimidating, as she hadn't spoken a word to them since they entered and had a distinct coldness to her presence. Ginger found the silence unnerving and continued to intermittently babble.

"What's your name, kid?" Ginger asked, clearly at a loss for what to say. "Just because you're a servant does not mean you're not a person."

"Ivan, miss," the servant said.

"How old are you?" the countess asked. It was the first thing she'd said since they'd entered.

"Me?" Ginger asked. "I'm sort of 23-"

"Not you, the girl," the Countess said, still staring coldly from the window.

"17," Alex said, trying her best to sound brave. And she did, to everyone but Ginger.

"Still so young and fresh," the Countess replied. "Like veal."

Ginger and the Doctor exchanged a look before Ginger glanced quickly away again. She began rubbing her arm again.

Suddenly a cold hand clamped around Ginger's left wrist. Ginger pulled away quickly, out of reflex. "You smell so lovely," the Countess said, looking Ginger full in the face for the first time. There was something in her eyes that felt hard and calculating. "What is that...enchanting fragrance, my dear?"

"I, uh..." Ginger swallowed. She didn't know how to answer, due mostly in part to her not knowing what the Countess was talking about. Ginger never wore perfumes. They made her cough and she thought they smelled like chemicals. "Summer Berry Deodorant?"

...

When they'd entered the castle, the door shut behind them with an echoing thud. The castle was cold and drafty, and long shadows were cast on the wall by the assortment of wall sconces. Their footsteps echoed on the stone floor as they walked forward.

"This isn't stereotypical at all," Alex whispered.

"Every good trope has to start somewhere," Ginger replied. 

"I wonder what it is about vampiric species that means they take such pleasure in gloom," the Doctor mused.

"Ginger probably gets it with her whole fake goth thing," Alex teased. "The scent of death and decay probably gets her going."

"Oooh look at that!" Ginger said excitedly, pointing up high into the rafters. "Bats! I've always wanted a pet bat, you know. It's goth as hell. Plus they're really very cute animals."

Alex and the Doctor exchanged an amused glance. "But they probably all have rabies," Alex reminded Ginger.

"That _is _a drawback. The aesthetic of this place is goals, though. I _do _always hate that castles are so drafty and damp, but considering that I took great pains to make sure the castle at the Medieval Fair was like that...I can dig the accuracy." Ginger smirked to herself as a thought occurred to her. "Bela Lugosi is dead," she muttered.

Alex figured this had to be another reference because the Doctor and Jack leaned in near to her and joined her in softly saying: "Undead, undead undead."

Ginger grinned, allowing herself to forget just for a second before she withdrew back into herself and rubbed at her arm again.

"Here," the Countess said, having shown them up a staircase to the end of a long hallway. "Find dry clothes and I'll send someone to fetch you when the meal is served." And with that, they were left to divide into groups: Ginger and Alex taking one room while Jack and the Doctor took the one across the hall.

...

"You don't think Ginger's acting a little off today?" the Doctor asked.

Jack sighed, clearly sick of the subject. "Ginger's always been a little off," he said, simply.

"But more so than usual?"

"Look, Doctor, I'm probably the last person who should be giving you any kind of advice about rebounds, but things with you and Ginger are getting weird. I think she knows that and she's intentionally putting distance."

The Doctor immediately took the offensive. "I don't know what you mean," he replied.

"You had a moment last time we saw her," Jack insisted.

"We did not _have _a _moment_-" he protested.

"You did, and it made things weird, and she's doing the right thing by reminding you to give her space."

"I'm not saying you're right," the Doctor scoffed. "Because you're wrong. So _far _wrong. You and Alex are _way _off base. But what do you mean?"

Jack hesitated as if wondering how to put this delicately. "Well, as I said...she's a rebound. You're projecting feelings onto her that were unresolved with Rose. And I'm sorry to even bring it up, but it's not healthy for either of you. There's something fragile about her and putting this on her could make her snap."

"Fragile?" the Doctor said, as if this was a ridiculous statement. "Ginger? She's not fragile. She could take any one of us in a fight, easy."

"You know that's not what I meant."

The statement hung in the air for a moment. "There's nothing going on there, honestly," the Doctor finally said. "There's just something about her...I can't quite put my finger on it..."

"Probably safest for you and your finger, truthfully," Jack said. "Wouldn't want to loose another hand."

...

"Ugh," Ginger said, shaking some dust off some dresses. "Why is it that to be in 17th century Hungarian garb you must choose between hideous and drab? I thought maybe the nobility would have more interesting clothes. Ugh, that's it, I'll just keep this on."

Alex rolled her eyes. "You're soaked through," she said. "You've got to change."

"I bloody well do not!" Ginger protested.

"Sacrifice fashion for function once in your life, Ginger," Alex said. "Don't be shallow."

Ginger pouted. "You're mean," she said.

"Ginger-" Alex began, suddenly concerned.

"I know, I know, I should act like a grownup-"

"Ginger-"

"But I really pride myself on my aesthetic, you know-"

"That's not it," Alex finally managed to say. "Ginger, you're bleeding."

"What?" Ginger said, immediately raising her left arm and seeing the trail of blood that had been dripping down her hand and onto the floor. "Damn it." She immediately pulled the wet traveling cloak off and rolled up the red sleeves of the dress to reveal her heavily scarred arms. There, amongst the various marks, was a new and fresh one that had been wrapped in gauze. Blood was leaking through.

"Ginger, what did you _do_?" Alex asked, reaching out and taking the arm in her own hands for a better look.

"Don't touch it!" Ginger hissed, pulling away. She started unwrapping her seemingly homemade bandages, eyes casting about for something that clearly wasn't in the room. "Oh where is my bag?"

"The Doctor told you to leave it in the TARDIS, remember?" Alex asked, gently. "Something about a Marauder's Map bag being too conspicuous."

Ginger groaned, eyes still darting about. "This won't do at all," she said, a touch of frantic entering her voice. "I need my extra bandages and sterilization equipment."

"You just carry that with you?" Alex asked, concerned about why Ginger felt she needed it.

"Don't you?" Ginger asked, as if this were outrageous. "Alex, honestly, I don't know what to do with you sometimes. You leave the house without a pocketknife or pepper spray, and also neglect your bandages and stuff to sterilize. What if something happens?"

"What do you think is going to happen?" Alex asked, properly concerned now.

"Things happen, Alex!" she shouted, drawing her arms in tightly to her chest. She closed her eyes and sank down on the bed. "And you can't predict them and can't control them, but you can be prepared when they do!"

"Maybe we should get the Doctor-" Alex began.

"No! He can't know about this!"

"Alright, calm down," Alex said. "I won't tell him if you don't want me to. Is there anything we can use in here?" Her eyes fell on one of the drab dresses. "We can tear off strips of the dress to make a new bandage."

Ginger shook her head, rocking slightly with her eyes still closed. "They're not sterile. They're not sterile."

"They're probably the best we can do here, alright?" Alex said, persuasively. "We just need to stop the bleeding for now. Hey, alcohol is supposed to sterilize, right? Maybe we can swipe some from the kitchens after the meal. Rich people have always got some."

Ginger considered this, as if slowly coming back to herself. "Alright," she agreed.

...

Dinner was awkward. Even as hungry as they all were, none of them could bring themselves to eat. Elizabeth Bathory had a bit of a reputation when it came to food, as Ginger had reminded them on the way to dinner by muttering a few lines of 'A Little Priest' from Sweeney Todd under her breath.

The Countess herself still hardly uttered a word, as if such a thing was beneath her or at least quite unnecessary. This led to some awkward attempts at small talk from the Doctor and Jack, but none so much as the blathering that Ginger found herself capable of. Nothing was quite so bad, in her opinion, than silence when there were other people in the room. She just couldn't take it.

"You are quite incapable of giving yourself a moment's peace," Elizabeth Bathory finally said to Ginger, just as an offhand comment. "Don't you find it tiresome?"

"I've actually noticed that about her," the Doctor cut in. "She's quite incapable of giving any of us a moment's peace either."

"You are almost as insufferable as she is," the countess replied, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "She feels compelled to fill the silence to a nauseating degree, while you seem quite as discontent as she is. I find you both quite tiresome."

"They do make quite a tiresome pair, don't they?" Jack echoed.

"You would do well to allow silence, yourself," the countess replied, with a yawn. "You think yourself charming. You are not."

"Hey!" Ginger rushed to his defense. "Don't say that about him!"

"Aw, Ginger, you think that I'm charming?" Jack teased.

"What?" she blinked, realizing what she was defending. "No!"

"But you just got very defensive about it," Jack pointed out.

"I just thought it was unfairly rude, is all," Ginger muttered. "I'd stand up for anyone who deserved it. It's kind of my thing."

"You didn't stand up for yourself," Jack replied. "Or the Doctor."

"Enough," the countess replied. Her tone remained even and unchanged, and yet it silenced them immediately. "Your childish bickering annoys me. We will eat in silence and then retire."

...

The four of them were shut in separate rooms for the night, and soon after discovered the doors had been locked behind them. This bothered Ginger especially, since she did not much like being boxed in.

The beginnings of panic began to circle in her mind before she had a thought spurred on by many viewings of Scooby Doo and solo games of Clue: All these castles have secret passageways. So slowly, methodically, she began dismantling the room for clues. Suddenly she looked up and saw a dusty bookcase.

"It can't really be that easy," she breathed.

She stepped towards it apprehensively and quickly removed the candle from the sconce next to it, jumping back as she did so. Nothing happened.

"Oh well that's no fun," she sulked. "I guess I should put the candle back." She did so, then got back to examining the bookcase.

She removed book after book before determining that there was no trick mechanism at play there. But this _had _to be the spot with the secret passage. The movies wouldn't lie! It's always the bookcase!

In a last desperate effort to validate what was beginning to look (to the untrained eye) a bit like lunacy, she used every last ounce of frustration she had to push on one side of the bookcase. To her utter astonishment, it moved easily out of the way which led her to stumble forward a bit. As she straightened up again, she realized that she had, indeed, found a secret passage hidden behind the bookcase. It seemed to be dark and dank, therefore she reached for the candle again for some illumination. She hesitated just before she could grab it, though - at the last possible second becoming worried that the candle would prove to be a trick mechanism after all. But she convinced herself to take it; snatching it quickly and rushing into the passageway before the bookcase could close over the entrance again. Which of course it didn't.

"Now you're just being silly," Ginger said aloud, to no one in particular. She held the candle ahead of her and progressed down the path.

It proved to not be a very long passage. It had no twists and turns like Ginger had hoped (all her ideas for what is proper in secret passages came from rather labyrinthine movie sets), but rather continued for a few feet before ending abruptly. Anyone would be tempted to think of this as a dead end, but Ginger knew better. Except in the case that she'd stumbled upon some kind of panic room or cell of some sort, she could only come to the conclusion that there was something blocking another entrance. So she set about trying to figure out what.

As she was doing so, she heard a curious noise coming from the other side of the wall. The faintest little buzzing sound, almost a whir. A very familiar sound...

Her face split into a wide grin, and she began warbling the tune to the Young Frankenstein theme.

...

The Doctor had tried everything he could think of, and yet it was no use. The sonic screwdriver doesn't work on wood. He was locked in, and becoming more agitated by the second. He'd just started giving the sonic one more desperate try when he heard a ghostly sound.

"Laaaaa dee da daaaa la deeee da daaaaa, la dee da daaaa da daaaaa..."

He stopped and followed the song over to the far wall, his face cracking into a grin as he realized what was happening.

"It seems to be coming," he mused softly, yet loudly enough to carry. "From behind ze bookcase." He glanced around quickly, and pulled the candle from the sconce next to the bookcase.

The second after he did this, a muffled voice with a bad German accent emanated from behind it. "Put. Ze candle. Back."

He grinned and made to do as he was told, before being stopped in his tracks again.

When the voice replied again, the accent had been dropped entirely, but sounded somehow even more muffled. "Listen to me very carefully. Don't put the candle back. With all of your might, shove on the other side of the bookcase. Is that perfectly clear?"

He took on the role of Inga once more. "I think so," he replied, suddenly having fun again. He hastily placed the candle on the bedside table and moved to push the bookcase out of the way.

He stepped back to see Ginger standing where a moment before there had been a bookcase, a candle held aloft in front of her. She adopted the bad German accent again, gesturing with one free hand. "Look, Doctor! A passagevay!"

He beamed at her, so glad to see her that he quite forgot they were locked inside a depressing castle. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Looking for a way out, of course!" she replied, grinning back at him. Of course she'd dropped the accent again in favor of her Scottish one. "I never much liked being locked into places. Activates my natural instinct to escape."

"You were locked in too?" he asked.

She nodded. "I figure we all were, which can't be a good sign. Surprised you haven't found a way out yet."

"Well my sonic doesn't do wood," he said, matter of factly. Then he noticed Ginger looking at him in an exasperated manner. "What?"

"Well two things, really," she replied, running her fingers through her hair. "First of all, it doesn't do wood?"

"Well, no, it doesn't actually."

"Okay, forgive me for saying so, but that's fucking stupid and you should do something about it," she replied.

"And what was the second thing?" he asked, still amused.

"Don't tell me your sonic was the only thing you tried?" she asked.

A moment passed. "Well..." he said, running his fingers through his own hair now.

"Oh my god, you _did _only try the sonic!"

"To be fair-"

"You are over here being dependent on your fancy alien technology meanwhile I'm Nancy Drew-ing us out of a bind through my own wits!" she said, shaking her head. "You're a piece of work, you know that?"

"I feel like I'm not told that often enough, to be honest," he replied. He looked behind her then at the passage. "Is that a way out?"

"No it's not," she replied. "I thought it might be when I found it, but it was just connecting our two rooms. I tore apart the room looking for other ways out before I found this, so there's no way out there."

"So there has to be one in here-" the Doctor began, already casting his eyes about to find a likely way.

"Not bloody likely," Ginger replied, walking around him into the room and spinning to face him. "From what I can see, our rooms are identical. The only way out would be via the door or by plummeting from the window to certain death."

"How did you figure this out anyway?" the Doctor asked, impressed.

Ginger shrugged. "If there's anything I learned from Scooby Doo, it's that there's always a secret passage."

"Good to have you back," the Doctor said, making note of how this was the first time all day that she'd seemed herself around him.

"Well I've been busy," she replied, averting her gaze again as she realized how close they were standing to each other. "Been a bit bored, actually."

He smirked. "Go on, just admit you missed us."

She blinked, suddenly going on the offensive again. "I did _not_!" she snapped.

"Oh yes, you did too!" he teased. "It's written all over you!"

"Well you're reading too much into things that aren't there!" she replied, annoyed.

"Just admit that you missed us," he grinned.

"I don't miss people, that's a stupid human emotion," Ginger said, dismissively. She sat down on the bed, at a loss for what to do with herself.

The Doctor had learned by now not to call her out on separating herself from humans. "No it's not," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Oh you can't sit here," Ginger said, suddenly self conscious.

"What?" he asked, amused again. "Why?"

"Because I'm sitting here," she replied, as if this were obvious.

"Yes, but this isn't the wild west. It's big enough for the both of us."

"Thank God it's not the wild west," she said. "Always hated Stetsons. They're the very opposite of fashionable. You still can't sit here."

"What is this, Mean Girls?" he teased. "Sorry I didn't wear pink, but you didn't either."

She groaned. "Okay, fine," she huffed. "If you won't move, then I will." She moved to sit on the floor at the foot of the bed instead and placed the candle on the floor in front of her.

He grinned. "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"

"No offense, Doc, but I don't even trust myself most of the time, so I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Well, fine then," he said, scrambling off of the bed to sit directly opposite her with the candle between them. "Can't let you just sit on the floor by yourself."

The flickering light from the candle cast long mysterious shadows across both their faces. "That almost makes it worse," Ginger said, half teasing. "It's almost like-"

And here they spoke at the same time.

"We're having a weird seance," she said.

"We're kids playing spin the bottle," he said.

"What?" they both said, in unison. Her eyes got wide as saucers.

"Nothing," he said, quickly. "What were we talking about? Ah, yes, how missing people isn't a human weakness."

"But it is, though," she replied, glad to seize onto a different topic. "To miss someone means that you notice they're gone and, well, I don't notice when people are here. I can't. I keep my eyes forward and keep moving. People are temporary, there's no use getting sentimental and attached."

"That's a pretty bleak way of looking at it," he replied.

"It's how it is," she said, looking anywhere but at him. "Why should I notice people? People don't notice me."

"I notice you," the Doctor said slowly, looking down at his hands which were fidgeting with the sonic screwdriver. "You're kind of hard to not to notice, honestly. There's just always been something about you...I don't know what it is...It's hard to put my finger on..."

"Probably safer for you and your finger if you don't," she said, dryly. "Hands off, Casanova."

"Yeah, I suppose it would be," he grinned, looking up at her. She was staring down at her own hands, fidgeting restlessly. The long flickering shadows being cast across her face gave her an air of mystery at the same time as the light from the candle made her look more vulnerable. Kind of sad. There was something about her expression and general posture that he found very familiar.

"You're not interested in me, though," she said, slowly. "I'm just a mystery. You're just holding on until you've solved it, and after that you'll get bored and move on. No sense in getting attached when people don't get attached to me. People won't miss me, so I don't miss them."

His smile faded a bit, though didn't quite disappear. "You're not just a mystery," he said, saddened by the implication. "You're my friend. You make things just a little more interesting. Not because you're a mystery, but because you have interesting things to say. I've met very few people of any species who could carry on a conversation with me, and you do it easily. Not that I don't have a life without you, but I was really looking forward to getting to see you today. Because I've grown rather fond of our routine, of seeing you at least once a week. Because I have, actually, gotten attached to you. And I, uh, well..." He hesitated then, running his fingers through his hair. "I missed you." He faltered a bit as she looked up at him in surprise. "As maddening as you are sometimes, I missed you while you were away."

There was a brief moment where there was nothing but silence as Ginger tried to think of something to say, before a weird scratching and grinding sound came from the direction of the door. Ginger snatched her candle off the floor as both of them scrambled to their feet and stood shoulder to shoulder with the candle held before her.

"What do you reckon?" Ginger asked. "I think it's too quiet to be Hagrid breaking down the door."

"You're a little old to be getting your Hogwarts letter anyway," he agreed.

"When that door opens, I'll throw the candle and we'll rush whatever it is and grab the others and get out of here."

"Agreed."

The knob suddenly turned and Ginger raised the candle, preparing to throw it when...

"Woah, woah, woah! It's me!" Jack said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender just in time.

"What are you doing?" Ginger hissed, still not lowering the candle.

"I got locked in and figured you guys did too," he explained. He held up some little metal tools. "I picked the lock and when I heard voices in here I came to check it out." Then he seemed to realize how weird it was to find the two of them so close to each other in a dark bedroom. "What...exactly is going on here, guys?" he teased.

Ginger and the Doctor awkwardly gathered themselves and made to stand a little further away from each other. "Nothing," Ginger said, running her fingers through her hair at the same time that the Doctor did the exact same thing. "I, uh...I was trying to find a way out of my room when I found this passageway. Led me here."

"Passageway?" Jack asked, peering in the direction she was pointing. "Think it might be a way out?"

"No, it just connects our two rooms," the Doctor explained.

"Kinky," Jack grinned.

"That's quite enough from you," Ginger said, pushing past him. "We've got to go get Alex out of her room and then get the hell out of here."

She reached the door to Alex's room and realized it was ajar. "Uh...guys?" Ginger said apprehensively, as she pushed the door open and had a look about. "Where _is_ Alex?"

...

Alex had been the only one not locked in, because through dinner the Countess had been working some form of hypnotism on her. Just after the others had been locked in, she felt herself called from the room and into a downstairs chamber full of torture implements and the remains of previous girls of her own age or younger. She was chained to the wall with her only hope being that the Doctor would rescue her in time.

...

"Ginger, you wait here, we'll take care of this," the Doctor whispered. They'd found where Alex was being held and were just outside waiting to storm in.

She crossed her arms. "Wait here? Why? I can handle myself, you know."

"Yes I do, but I'm trying to make sure Alex gets out of there alive and it would be great if you would be, too."

"Just wait here, okay?" Jack said, shrugging.

"Fine," she huffed. The others disappeared, but then she saw Ivan skulking in the shadows. "Hey you. Kid. You wanna help me with something?"

...

Of course the Doctor and Jack only managed to get themselves captured, like the helpless men that they were. The Countess made it clear that she didn't fancy eating them at all, but would have them killed immediately after making them watch her eat Alex.

"Am I allowed to come out now?" Ginger asked, strolling leisurely into the room. She seemed only slightly interested in the goings on - in fact, she could almost be said to have appeared bored.

"It's about time," Jack quipped. "I've been saying for ages that the closet you've been living in is much too small."

Ginger rolled her eyes and began inspecting the room. "Bit dusty, isn't it?" she asked, nonplussed. "Smells a bit too." She turned to the Countess suddenly. "Don't you ever clean? You're leaving your food all over the floor to rot like you're in a college dorm room."

"What are you waiting for? Seize her!" the Countess said, motioning for her lackeys to take her. Which they did, instantly.

"Oh no, you've got me," Ginger said, yawning. "Darn. Well. There goes any master plan I had. Rather disappointing, actually. Suppose you're going to eat me, now? I have to warn you, I'm rather stringy. Mostly bones, actually. No muscle or fat to speak of, though. Might pair well with Tabasco sauce, then again everything does." Then she perked up. "Ooooh or are you gonna make me into one of your blood baths? That's goth as hell."

"Stop your inane blathering, girl," the Countess said, incensed. "You're much too old to add to my fountain of youth."

Ginger sighed, as if disappointed. "And they say 21st century Hollywood is shallow! Such unrealistic expectations for women! Alex, what's that Lily Allen song about how society tells us our life is over if we live past our mid-twenties?" She paused, but Alex still couldn't answer.

"I don't understand," the countess said. "You are not responding to my hypnotism." She grabbed Ginger by the arm, smelling it just above where her new wound was. "You smell quite human, and yet your will is strong."

"Yeah, well, I work it out," Ginger replied.

"You have no fear, girl?" the Countess asked, coming forward and looking right in her face. "None at all? Even though you know this will end with your death?"

She shrugged. "It all will in the end, so why worry?"

"I may have underestimated you," the Countess mused. "I could make you an offer. I don't think you're fit for consumption, but you could join me here. Become like me."

"And what does that mean, become like you?" Ginger asked, eager to know the answer.

"I suppose on this planet, you'd call me a vampire," she replied, with a wicked grin. "There are many names for being such as me throughout the universe. Our family line has carried on this trait for generations, though we've been forced to mate with the humans to obtain power so the line is diluted."

"Well that's just disgusting, that is," Ginger said, matter of factly. "You should've stuck to the inbreeding like every other respectable royal European line, because mating with humans is just disgusting. Keep it in the family, I say."

"You could be the first new turn we've made in centuries," Countess Bathory replied. "What do you say, child?"

"Ginger, don't!" the Doctor said, struggling harder to get free.

She shushed him. "What would I get out of it?" she asked, without breaking eye contact.

"Why, the ability to stay young forever, of course," the Countess replied.

"And I'd have to eat Alex, here, is that what you're saying?" Ginger asked, as though she were considering this. "You types always want us to eat our friends to prove loyalty."

"It would be initiation," the countess agreed.

"And how will you cook her?" Ginger asked, as if genuinely interested. "A little cajun seasoning or barbecue sauce?"

"She will not require seasoning," Bathory replied. "You consume her raw."

"Ugh, what is it with white Europeans and not seasoning their food?" Ginger asked, disgusted. "She wouldn't be edible at all in that state! At least throw in a little Sriracha! I've only seen a few episodes of _Hannibal_, but I know even he had standards for cooking and preparing the meat! You'll get food poisoning!"

"Girl, this is your one chance to obtain eternal youth, and you are trying my patience," Elizabeth Bathory replied. "What do you say? Would you like to live forever?"

Ginger scoffed at the idea. "And why would I want to live forever?" she asked, as if this whole thing were silly. "I think you'd better let my friends go now, though."

She laughed wickedly. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I _do _have a few ideas about proper seasoning I'd like to share with you." She elbowed one guard in the face and punched out the other one who was holding her, while in one fluid motion removing a small canister from her bra. She shot a grin at the others, who were still in shock. "You know me - never leave the house without a little pepper." She sprayed Elizabeth Bathory in the face and watched as she screamed out in agony. "It's like I always say - nobody likes to be pepper sprayed."

"You are not...even remotely tempted by the possibility of eternal life?" the Countess asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh who wants to live forever?" Ginger asked, ruffling her hair and adjusting her glasses. "I'm not ever sure I want to make it through the rest of the night, to be honest. But it seems to me that the Doctor would miss me if I left, so I'll stick around just a bit longer." She leaned in closer to the Countess and stage whispered dramatically. "Between you and me, he's a _bit _needy." She straightened up and smirked, clearly enjoying her audience. "You know, when I heard that the great Elizabeth Bathory was offering us a ride, I thought this would just be neat. It's Halloween and we get to meet a famous vampire! How goth is that? I was picturing you as sort of a mad Drusilla-type and I was gonna _totally _geek out about it. I mean, vampires are cool, right? But now, seeing you...I think I'm over my vampire phase."

"How dare you?" the Countess roared, rising to her full height. "Who do you think you are?"

Ginger grabbed Elizabeth Bathory by the throat and pushed her into the wall. "I'm Ginger. The Vampire Slayer. And you are?"

The Doctor and Jack took advantage of that moment to break free of the rest of the guards and knock them to the ground. Jack ran over to free Alex, flinging her over his shoulder.

"The insolence!" Bathory exclaimed, incensed beyond belief. "Unhand me at once!"

"Eat me, bitch!" Ginger replied, punching her in the face. She then motioned to the Doctor. "Doc, my stake please."

"What?" he shouted, totally confused. "What stake?"

"My lucky stake!" Ginger said, losing confidence suddenly. "The one I keep in my bag!"

"Why do you have a stake in your bag?" the Doctor asked.

"I like to come prepared!" she said, anxiety creeping in.

"Didn't he make you leave your bag in the TARDIS?" Jack asked, nervously.

At that moment, the local police came charging in.

"There she is!" Ivan shouted, pointing at the Countess. "She was planning on eating these people!"

"There you are!" Ginger shouted, exasperatedly. "I thought you were gonna help me drop a chandelier on these people!"

"That seemed dangerous, so I just went to the police," Ivan replied.

Ginger groaned. "God, I hate cops. But fine, it gets the job done. Just this _once_!" The guards had unhanded the prisoners and were being apprehended by the policemen. Ginger walked to the Doctor's side. "What do you say we all get out of here before they start asking for statements?" she whispered. "Grab Alex, and let's go?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah, let's make it quick."

...

Alex sat on the floor of the TARDIS, wet and shivering from the rain as she began to snap out of the mind control. The Doctor approached her with a blanket and wrapped it around her.

Ginger's eyes fell on her beloved Marauder's Map bag, and she snatched it from the floor. It occurred to her that she'd never disinfected her cut after it had started bleeding earlier, so she intended to do that as soon as she could sneak away to a bathroom.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked Alex, gently.

Ginger was oblivious to the fact that he wasn't talking to her. "Of course we are! It's all nothing we haven't seen before!"

"Actually, I'm a bit tired," Alex said, shakily. "Bit much for me. I'll be fine, but it was a bit...much."

This surprised Ginger and brought her back to Earth (so to speak) in a very hard way. Yet another moment where she felt as if something was no big deal, but any normal regular person would be pretty traumatized by it. She was so caught up in thoughts about yet again being an unrelatable freak that she didn't notice the Doctor watching her closely as if he somehow understood.

"That was some performance back there, Ginger," Jack teased, though actually looking kind of impressed. "Very heroic. Actually reminded me a lot of this one, handing Bathory the way you did." He nudged the Doctor. "He must be rubbing off on you."

"He'd better not be," she joked back. "Hey, Doc, you don't mind if I use your bathroom real quick, do ya?"

"Sure, no problem."

As soon as she was out of earshot, Alex rose from the floor and approached the Doctor nervously. "Doc, I was actually...wondering if I could talk to you. Just for a sec."

"Yeah, of course," he said, suddenly concerned.

Alex shot Jack a reassuring smile. "It's just boring scheduling stuff, we'll only be a minute." She led the Doctor far enough across the room that if they spoke in a lower voice they'd be out of earshot.

"What is it?" he asked.

She sighed, clearly uncomfortable. "Look, this isn't my place to say, and I know it's partially my fault. I've been...encouraging it a little. Because it's cute, you both are, but-"

"Alex, what is this?" he asked, sensing one of her rambles coming on.

She sighed again, closing her eyes. "I've thought a lot tonight about how to say this, but there is no right way. You've got to stop doing the rebound thing with Ginger."

"I'm not-"

"I'm not gonna argue about this, alright?" Alex cut him off. "On the one hand, you two seem so perfectly in sync that it looks on the surface like you're made for each other. But you're, I dunno, projectin' all your loneliness onto her, pushin' a little and...I don't think you mean to hurt her, but if things go on like this you'll both get hurt. I don't want to see that happen."

"Nothing is going to-"

"Look, I just want you to listen for a bit, alright?" she said, anxiously. "Don't try to placate me or reassure me, because this isn't about me. This is about you two and I just want you to hear me out. Can you do that?"

"Yes, of course, Alex," the Doctor said.

"Good. Because I've seen this happen before. I knew this girl Dani - she was my mate a few years ago, you know? She was in the system too and a lot of...bad things had happened to her. Because her parents weren't great, so she had these...issues about relationships." Alex swallowed, finding this difficult to talk about. "She was 15, right, and she got in with this bloke. Bit older. Not quite your age difference, but he was just pushin' 18 and...Well it wasn't his fault, really. Still think it wasn't a good age difference but like...He couldn't know. She got worse. Acted out a lot, more than she was before even. Getting in with rough crowds. But that wasn't the problem, see? The problem was that she was sick. In the head, you know? Like one day she'd love him so much and the next she was being awful and fightin' and pushin' him away. She'd learned some bad things from her dad that led to her sleepin' around and usin' that to make herself feel less empty. Just turn off her brain, you know?" Alex closed her eyes, finding it impossible to carry on with this story. "Anyway, it didn't end so great for her. I don't want to see that happen with you two. I know Ginger is sick too. I've seen her arms-"

"Her arms?" the Doctor cut in, suddenly shocked and concerned. "What about her arms?" He tried to brush it off, light heartedly. "Ginger doesn't have arms, they just grow in covered in leather."

Alex realized she'd said too much - she'd assumed the Doctor knew. "I shouldn't've said anythin'," she replied.

"Alex, what about her arms?" the Doctor pressed.

Before she could answer, Ginger reentered the room. "We landed yet?" she asked.

"Several minutes ago," Jack said.

"I'll walk you out," the Doctor said, ignoring the look Alex was giving him.

"You know, I actually do know how to exit a TARDIS by myself by now," Ginger tried to joke, after they'd closed the door behind them. "I am a big girl."

"I know, I just wanted to check with you, make sure you're actually okay," he said.

She shuffled uncomfortably. "I was," she admitted.

"But you're not now?"

"Because I shouldn't be okay, should I?" she asked him. "I should be more shaken. Normal people would be more shaken. Things like that are traumatic, aren't they?"

"At a certain point you get used to it," he said.

"But does that make it better?" she implored him.

He thought about it. "Not really. But you know what does?"

"What?"

He grinned, slowly. "You called us your friends."

"Oh," she blinked. "I guess I did. But I was just talking. It didn't mean anything."

"It did," he replied. "Let me ask you, though...You said you weren't sure you wanted to make it through that. That wasn't just talk."

"No. It wasn't. I guess that's also not normal. The total lack of self-preservation instinct. The complete inability to care about my own safety."

"I couldn't even begin to tell you what normal people think because I've never been one," he replied. "But I've been there. More times than I can count. But my friends always pull me out of it. I have to have something human to tether myself or I just drift away. You said you were sticking around because of..." He started to say 'me', but thought better of it. "Us. And that's one step in the right direction. If we can tether you to this world for even a moment, that makes it all worth it."

There was a short pause while Ginger was at a loss for words again. "I'd better get back," the Doctor said, snapping out of it. "Jack gets bored. Between you and me, he's a _bit _needy."

Ginger smiled back, arms loosely crossed in front of her chest. "Yeah, I've noticed that."

The Doctor turned around and reached for the door to let himself back in when he heard Ginger speak again.

"I did miss you, you know?" she spat out self-consciously, as if trying her best in vain to hold in the words but they wouldn't stop. "While you were gone. It was weird. I didn't like it."

"So you invite us over on a Sunday?" he asked, without turning around. 

"Of course," she said, matter-of-factly. "Sundays are the worst. For lots of reasons, actually, but mostly because Sundays are boring. You get done doing a matinee for the churchfolk, then what's left to do? Nothing, I'll tell you. Just nothing. So I had to make my Sunday more interesting somehow."

He smiled, but kept his back turned so she couldn't see. "So same time next week?" he asked.

"Sooner, maybe?" she asked, clearly very uncomfortable. "We don't have to wait a whole week. Maybe come by Saturday?"

He nodded. "Good choice."

"I like Saturdays," the both said, in unison. 

Ginger couldn't help but smile too, but then quickly remembered herself. "Guess I'll see you then."

He turned back to face her. "I look forward to-"

But she was already walking away.


	16. Hell in a Handbasket

The Doctor, Alex, and Jack arrived that Saturday to find Ginger in her usual spot in the tech booth.

"So where will it be today?" the Doctor asked, by way of greeting. "Ghosts, goblins, creepy crawly nasties? I know you'll want to keep us on theme, Ginger."

"As interesting as that all sounds," Ginger said. "And don't get me wrong, I'd love to - I really would...But we've got bigger problems."

Alex frowned. "Like what?" she asked.

"Margot's joined a cult."

Alex laughed. "She's done what?" She noticed the look on Ginger's face. "...Oh you're serious?"

"Would I joke about a cult?"

"Wait, hang on," the Doctor said. "When you say a _cult_, do you mean-"

She sighed heavily, clearly impatient. "Cult, from the Latin _Cultus_, meaning culture, worship, reverence. Interesting side note, _Cultus _is the past participle _Colere, _which means 'to till', which was the root of the word 'colony'. And of course, we shouldn't forget that the word 'culture' comes from the same root, from the word _Cultura_ while 'cultivate' also comes from the same root through the word _Cultivus_-"

"Are we getting to the interesting part?" Alex asked.

Ginger realized she'd been getting into a bit of a ramble and crossed her arms. "I just enjoy the metaphor, is all. That all should come back to a single _root_, as it were," she chuckled to herself at the plant-based pun she'd subtly enacted. "That all these words hold the common thread of most literally meaning to promote growth, but were eventually used in such a way that to cultivate was a figurative way of growing a skill the way one would grow a garden-"

"Alright," Alex cut in. "Not to be rude of nothin', but I'm still not seeing what's so interestin' about this? Weren't you sayin' somethin' important?"

Ginger paused again. "Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry. So Margot is in a cult."

"So you said," replied Jack. "But you didn't tell us what's going on."

"Yeah," the Doctor said. "You sure you're not just being dramatic?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Dramatic? I'm always being dramatic. That doesn't mean I'm wrong."

The Doctor put up his hands in a sign of peace. "Alright, not arguing. So what's this about Margot being in a cult?"

"Normally I wouldn't care," Ginger explained. "So what if Margot's in a cult? If it gets her out of my hair, good riddance. None of my business _or _concern. But it's worse."

"Worse?" Alex asked.

"It's not just a cult," Ginger replied. "It's a _pyramid scheme_."

"Of course," the Doctor said. "It's not just a cult, it's a _capitalist cult._"

Ginger stood up. "I'll prove it," she said.

"Interesting outfit," Jack said, noting the red pleather trousers, black tank top, and black pleather jacket Ginger was wearing. "What's with all the leather?"

She looked at him blankly. "I always wear leather."

"Yeah," the Doctor pitched in. "But it seems to have spread today, like a Symbiote."

"Yeah, well, I did the witch thing," she explained. "Which I got over when they nearly burned me at the stake. Then I did the vampire thing, but nearly got vamped in the process. Plus someone made me lose that _wicked _dress in Transylvania." She glared at the Doctor.

"Kinky," Jack said, smugly.

"_Not _what she meant," the Doctor said, hastily. "She's upset that I wouldn't take her back to the castle to find it. We left it behind."

"Anyway, now I'm a Slayer," Ginger said. "And as a Slayer, it's my duty to save annoying young actresses from being sucked in by cults."

...

"So when does this show close, anyway?" Alex asked, as they made their way back to the main floor.

"They do the final show Halloween night," Ginger explained. "I wrap up the night before, though. Someone else will take over for me on closing night."

The Doctor was surprised.

"Okay, you're having a face," Ginger said, picking up on his expression. "What's the face for?"

"No, no face," the Doctor said, clearly still having a face.

"Come on, spit it out," she rolled her eyes.

"I'm just surprised, is all," he replied.

"What for?" she asked.

"You won't even let US touch your equipment most of the time and you're such a perfectionist that I'm very surprised you _wouldn't _want to close out the show."

"Well Halloween is a religious holiday, I always take it off," she replied as if this were obvious. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that. You should all come down to hang on Halloween since I'll have the whole day."

"You're inviting us?" the Doctor asked, surprised. "You never invite us, we have to get you to negotiate first."

"Yeah, well, I'm going away after that," she said, vaguely. "Got to get at least _one _proper Halloween before I go."

"Going away?" Alex asked, picking up on a bit of sadness. "Where are you going?"

"Not sure yet," she admitted. 

The Doctor found this concerning as well. "How long will you be gone?"

She hesitated, clearly anxious about this line of questioning. "I'm not sure. I might be around, might not. With any luck, I'll be back doing shows in January. But I might not. One thing's for sure, though: I don't do Christmas shows."

"Why not?" Jack asked.

She shrugged. "It's against my religion."

"Which religion is this?" Alex asked, trying to be amused but still being a bit concerned.

"Bad Religion," she responded. 

"Yeah alright," Jack said. "I'm definitely in for Halloween. The Brits don't do it properly, so I haven't celebrated in forever."

"Great," Ginger said, trying to hide how pleased she was. "Make sure to come in costume."

"Costume?" Alex asked.

"Yeah," she replied, totally oblivious. "Obviously I'm not telling you what I'm being yet, that would ruin the surprise."

"Oh I don't have a costume," Alex said.

Ginger was flabbergasted. "You don't have a costume? Halloween is a week from today and you didn't get your costume yet?"

"Didn't think I'd need one," she shrugged.

"Of course you _need _one!" Ginger replied. "Jack, tell her!"

"I don't have a costume either," Jack said.

"Halloween isn't as much of a big deal in Britain," the Doctor said, in a way that let Ginger know she was revealing herself as an outsider again.

"_None _of you were planning to dress up?" Ginger put her hands on her hips. "Well that just won't do. You hang out with me on Halloween, you gotta be properly dressed."

"Alright, fine, we'll throw something together," Alex said, mostly to get her to shut up. She had to admit that a small part of her was excited at the prospect of getting to dress up, but there was another part of her that felt like she needed to do this for Ginger. Because it was clearly important to her, and something wasn't right about this whole thing.

"Good," Ginger said. "Bless my soul, rock n roll, flying purple people eater! Imagine just _not _celebrating Halloween! I've lived in places where I couldn't celebrate properly, and it was _miserable_!"

"Back it up," Jack laughed. "Did you just use the purple people eater as a swear?"

"What's a purple people eater?" Alex asked. "What's a purple people?"

Now Ginger really did look at her like she was insane. "You've _got _to be messing with me."

"I really have no clue what you're talking about," Alex said, earnestly.

"It's...a famous Halloween song," she said in disbelief. "A classic, really. You don't know it?"

"Sorry," Alex shrugged.

"You can at least do the Monster Mash?"

"I've heard _of _the Monster Mash, but don't really know what it is."

Ginger whipped around, hands on her hips. "Jack, this is your fault. You neglected this child and she grew up wrong. No proper respect for Halloween. Explain yourself."

"It's just not important in Britain," Jack replied. "I've wanted to get her into Halloween though. By the time I was born, it had spread to all the Earth colonies."

...

"It's not a cult!" Margot said, emphatically. "I've told you a hundred times! It's a self-help group that helps women maximize their inner potential!"

"That's what cults say," Ginger replied. "Trust me, I've studied them."

"You have?" asked the Doctor.

"I've read lots of books about how cult psychology works," Ginger said. "I know the warning signs."

"Why don't you come to a meeting then?" Margot asked. "You'll see!"

...

"You're going to love this," Margot said. "Rowan is a genius. He'll change your whole life."

They walked in to a large conference room that was already full of people. Margot immediately went over to the open bar to get herself a drink.

"Aren't you going to have anything?" she asked.

"No thanks," Ginger said. "I don't really drink. Plus, since this is a _cult_, I think we should all lay off. Brainwashing works best when you're intoxicated."

The lights flickered to indicate that they should take their seats.

"Come on," Margot said. "Looks like we're about to get started."

They took seats near the front row and looked up at a small stage with a podium on it. Almost as soon as they sat down, the curtains parted slightly and a tall man with graying black hair stepped through and took his place at the podium.

"Welcome," he said, grinning toothily at the audience. "I look around now and see many faces returning from our past lives to be here today, as well as a few newcomers who have never crossed our enlightened path before. Are we all ready to maximize our potential?" The crowd cheered. "That's what I thought. The night grows dark out there, but then it is always dark for those who cannot See. We come here from all walks of life to find our true purpose. Many of us felt lonely and unfulfilled before we heard the call. But that's only because we did not know there were others like us. Now that we walk in the light, we'll never be lonely again."

Ginger leaned over to whisper to the Doctor. "Yeah, so totally not a cult."

The man at the podium noticed Ginger. "I see we have a skeptic in our midst. Would you care to approach the podium?"

Ginger laughed to herself, exchanging looks of disbelief with her friends before looking back at the podium. "Alright," she shot back. "Never been shy about public speaking, me."

She walked up to the podium.

"My name is Rowan," the man said. "May I ask yours?"

She crossed her arms. "No you may not. You could be fae for all I know."

"Her name is Dana!" the Doctor shouted.

She rolled her eyes at him, though privately she was amused.

"Dana, is it?" Rowan asked. "What brings you here today, Dana?"

"Boredom, mostly," she admitted, irritably. "Though you're not doing a good job of curing it with your faith healing or whatever it is that you do here. I expect I'll have to pay for that package?"

"You're a bit of a firecracker, aren't you?" Rowan asked.

She winced. "Don't call me that."

"Well, Dana, it is lovely to meet you," Rowan carried on. "I hope you'll stick around for the rest of the meeting. Do try to relax. We're all friends here."

"Don't count on it."

...

The rest of the meeting was like an informal gathering. A DJ played popular music for people to dance to while others separated into groups and talked about the Message.

"What is the Message?" the Doctor asked.

"The call that brings us all here today," Margot replied. "Before I heard it, I was slaving away feeling sorry for myself as a failing actress. But now I see such petty concerns don't matter. After my initiation is complete and the play is over, I'll give up my material possessions and move in with the group."

"So..." Ginger said, slowly. "_Not _a cult?"

Margot narrowed her eyes. "I'm really tired of hearing you say that! I find something that makes me truly happy and you have to cut it down because _you're _miserable! You've never believed in anything so of course you're going to make fun of anyone who actually does! Excuse me, I'm going to go talk to people who don't _completely _bring down the vibe!" She took off.

Ginger stared after her. "Margot's completely off her rocker."

"You _could _try being a little nicer," Alex said, slowly.

"Nicer?" Ginger repeated, skeptically. "Margot _is _off her rocker!"

"I'm not saying you're wrong," Alex said. "But do you think _maybe _being so hostile is pushing her further into this thing?"

"Well if you have a better approach, why don't you show me?"

"Is that a challenge?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah, if you want it to be one."

"Alright," Alex said. "Doc and I will go try to talk some sense into her. Jack, you stay here by the bar with Ginger to make _sure _she doesn't get into trouble."

"I don't need babysitting," Ginger protested as they walked away. "But I guess I could be stuck with worse people."

"You know, I really do think you need to loosen up a bit," Jack said. "You're so tightly wound that I'm worried you'll snap."

"That's just who I am," she grumbled. "But what did you have in mind?"

Jack approached the bar and picked up two drinks.

"Oh come on," she rolled her eyes. "Mind control drinks? I don't think so."

"I'm not gonna peer pressure you," Jack said. "But maybe one drink isn't such a bad idea."

She sighed. "Alright, just this once."

...

One drink turned into three.

"And so I just vacuumed it up," Ginger giggled, pushing her hair out of her face. "But I wasn't sure whether that would be enough, you know? Like what if it wasn't dead and just climbed out of the vacuum? Or if it made a web and laid little baby spiders? I knew I had to be safe so I just threw away the whole vacuum. Put a bit of duck tape over where the hole in the wall was."

Jack clapped his hands, startling her. "I knew it!" he exclaimed. "I've suspected it for ages based on your pop culture references, but now I know for sure!"

"Know what?" Ginger asked, eyes wide.

"You're American!" he said, proudly.

She looked around quickly to make sure they weren't being overheard and hushed him quickly. "Keep your voice down," she said. "No I'm not."

"I rationalized that maybe you just use a lot of weird random words," Jack pressed on. "'Rad', 'Groovy', 'hella'...You like dead languages, maybe you just pick up dead phrases."

"I do, that's exactly what I do," Ginger said nervously, wishing he'd keep his voice down.

"But now I have proof!" Jack said. "No British person would say 'vacuum'!"

She swore under her breath, feeling caught out. "Hoover!" She was internally kicking herself. "I should've said Hoover!"

"And that's not the only one!" Jack carried on. "They say 'sellotape' over here! You slipped up! Let me hear what you said one more time?"

She hesitated. "I didn't say anything."

"Yes you did, say it again."

"No!"

"Come on, Ginger!"

"Alright, fine!" she threw up her hands in exasperation and frustration. "I give up! I said 'duck tape'! You happy!"

"Yes, very," he grinned, pleased with himself. "Not only does that reveal you as American, but you say a hard K sound. That means you're from the south somewhere. I spent time in America and it's a very subtle, almost unnoticeable difference. But it's there. Northerners say 'duct' and southerners say 'duck'."

"You're gonna have to duck if you don't quit with these unfounded accusations," Ginger grumbled. "Anyway there's no difference between saying 'duct tape' and 'duck tape'. I think you're imagining things."

He threw up his hands in a white flag. "I'm not going to tell anyone, I'm sure you have your reasons."

"I do!" she snapped, crossing her arms. "I have my reasons and they're damn good reasons."

"So you admit to being American?" he asked.

"I don't feel American," she said, deciding to give up the ruse. "I never did. I came to the UK hoping to find somewhere I would belong, but it hasn't worked yet."

"Interesting," Jack said.

"What is?" she asked, irritably.

"You didn't drop the accent even when you got caught."

"It's been my voice for five years," she said, her Scottish brogue still in place. "It feels and sounds natural to me. I didn't get off a plane and land in Camden, you know. I lived in Edinburgh for a while. By the time I moved here, this just felt like my natural accent."

"You know what I hate?" Jack asked, turning back to teasing. "The whole calling cookies 'biscuits' thing."

She groaned, but was suddenly grinning. "Oh I know! It's ridiculous. And then what are we meant to call actual biscuits? I tell you, these Brits don't plan ahead."

"And what's with the kids calling things 'safe' instead of cool?" he asked. "Alex went through a phase of that a few years ago and I've never been so happy to see a word die."

Ginger laughed. "I know! The first time I heard someone say that to me they were talking about a party they were going to and I was like: 'Safe? Was it not supposed to be? Saying it's safe makes me think it won't be and you're just saying that. Are you okay? Do you need help?'"

"Just warning you," Jack was saying as they approached. "Saying 'vacuum' makes you come off as a little posh."

"Noted," Ginger replied, grinning.

The Doctor noticed that Ginger and Jack looked far too comfortable with each other, so he came over to check it out.

"What's going on over here?" he asked.

Ginger and Jack instantly dissolved into laughter.

"What's so funny?" Alex asked, pleased they were getting on so well.

They only laughed harder.

"No really, what's the joke?" the Doctor asked.

"You are, mate," Ginger said, punching him on the arm. "Both of you. And your stupid English accents. Wicked funny." She saw the look on his face. "Come on, you've gotta loosen up." She handed him a cup. "Have a drink."

"Ginger, can I ask," Jack began, knowing he was treading on dangerous territory. "Where are you going? After Halloween, I mean."

Her smile faltered for a split second before widening. "I'm going to Hell. In a handbasket. It's a Bohemian Rhapsooooody."

Jack couldn't help but be amused. "You're deflecting."

"Maybe so," she admitted. "But this is so much fun!" She noticed security guards coming toward them. "This is about to be just like all those times I was kicked out of church." The men reached them. "Alright, alright, we're going. It won't be peaceful though."

"Rowan wants to see you," the guard said.

Ginger blinked. "Say what?"

"He wants to see you," the guard repeated.

"Alright, just...give me a second. I'll come with you, just give me a second." She saw that the Doctor was still at the bar, and hurried toward him. "Alright, there's no time, but Rowan has asked to see me. Just act cool, then find a reason to slip away. Do as much investigating as you can."

"Oh so we're investigating now?" the Doctor asked, sullenly. "I thought we were just drawing attention to ourselves."

"Look, there's no plan, just do it, alright?" She hurried back to the guards. "Alright, I'm ready."

...

The Doctor left Jack with Alex back in the main conference room while he slipped away. The cult was still small, so there wasn't a whole lot of security. Only two of them were standing guard outside Rowan's office. He knew he wouldn't be able to make it in there with them watching, so he did the only thing he could think of.

"Oh thank God I found you!" he exclaimed, drawing the guards' attention. "Blood! In the conference room! Just! Everywhere!" Then he pretended to faint against the wall.

"What's he on about?" the first guard asked, nudging him with his foot.

"I dunno," the second guard said. "Probably a nutter."

Suddenly the guards doubled over in pain and Ginger stepped out from behind them. She was holding a bunch of papers.

She held out her free hand to him. "Run!"

He accepted the help getting to his feet and they began running.

"Good job with the fake fainting thing," she shouted at him, sarcastically. "This is why you always carry a taser!"

"Why do you have a taser?" the Doctor asked. "Never mind, what happened with Rowan?

"Oh you know, he tried to come on to me, so I kicked him in the nuts and tased him. The usual. Anyway, I got him to talk and I got all this evidence about the shady financials and abuses of power so let's grab Alex and Jack and find a newspaper _now!"_

...

They did that, and the Doctor took Jack and Alex home first. He landed in London in front of the theatre.

"This is your stop," he said, stiffly.

Ginger didn't like the way he was talking so decided not to leave just yet. "What's up, Doc?"

"Nothing," he said. "Except I definitely had too much to drink and might...need to sit down for a minute." He sat down on the floor.

Ginger hesitated before walking around to sit next to him. "Uh-huh," she said.

"You studied cults?" the Doctor asked, out of nowhere.

"Yeah for a bit," Ginger said. 

"Because of religion?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "But also I grew up in the suburbs. They always seemed sorta...cultish. You wouldn't understand, places like that are sort of-"

"Suffocating?" the Doctor finished her sentence for her.

"Well...yeah," she said, uselessly.

"It reminds me a lot of where I grew up," the Doctor said.

"Your home planet?" she asked. "What was it like there?"

He looked up at her, questioningly. "Are you actually asking me a question?" he asked, sardonically.

"Yeah, I guess I am," she said, uncomfortably.

"Do you actually care about the answer?" he asked.

"Okay, Doctor Emo," she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I guess I do. I'm interested. Academically, of course." This last part was added as an afterthought.

"I hated it there," the Doctor said, looking away again. "I feel bad about it now that it's gone, but I really hated my home planet. Couldn't wait to get away. The moment I could leave Gallifrey, I stole a TARDIS and left."

Ginger raised her eyebrows, smiling a bit. "You stole the TARDIS?" she asked.

"I did," he was smiling now too, putting a hand absently through his hair. "Why? You into that? You like the bad boy thing?"

"Rarely," she said, laughing. "The bad girl thing, on the other hand...And actually then only if it's fictional..." There was another brief pause and she felt like she had to say something. "What made you want to leave?"

"Well, it was a lot of things, really," the Doctor said. "I didn't like the political climate, for one. It was getting very oppressive there for people like...Well, anyway, I won't bore you with complicated issues. I didn't like our traditions or our culture, so I turned to Earth culture. Your shows, your books, your languages. I really loved your punk music, which was even more scandalous on Gallifrey in those days than it was on Earth. Just one of the ways I was always considered sort of odd. Never really fit in. There was a way you were expected to be there and I just couldn't live up to that. I wanted to travel, experience things for myself. So I left."

Ginger nodded, looking at him in a new light. "Yeah," she said slowly. "I get that."

"You do, don't you?" the Doctor replied, looking at her and meeting her gaze. "You understand a lot of things. Things you're not supposed to."

"Yeah, I've been told that," she said.

"Ginger," the Doctor said, slowly. "Where are you going?"

She swallowed hard. "Nowhere important." She got up. "See you on Halloween, Doc."


	17. Pure Imagination

They had arranged to meet outside of the theatre at noon, which was several hours before call time, so Ginger was still inside getting dressed when she heard the sound of the TARDIS emerging in the alleyway. She rushed outside, mostly dressed, and managed to be just in front of the TARDIS when the door swung open.

The Doctor was dressed in a brown top hat, bow tie, blue overcoat, and tan slacks. He held a walking stick in his left hand, and leaned forward with a motion that was too smooth to have not been rehearsed. "Come with me," he sang, with a grin. "And you'll be in a woooorld of pure imagination." Then he noticed what she was wearing.

They both half gawked, half laughed at each other.

"Is that you, Mo-Dean?" the Doctor was the one to speak first, opting for a B-52's reference that he hoped she'd get.

"It's me, Mo-Dean," she grinned, picking up the reference where he'd dropped it. She raised her eyebrows and gestured at him. "Is that you, Mo-Dean?"

He tapped the side of the TARDIS a few times with the walking stick. "On a UFO."

She shook her head, still laughing. "So you're going as Wonka? Doctor...You're such a dork."

"Well you're one to talk," he shot back in good fun, gesturing at her as he straightened up. "I considered Dark Helmet or Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, but I liked this better. What's your excuse?"

She shifted her weight, trying to appear more comfortable with her costume than she was. In some ways, she was dressed very similarly. In most ways, though, she was completely different. She was wearing a small blue checkered blazer with a big white flower in the lapel. Beneath that was what appeared to be a one-piece bathing suit that left her legs entirely exposed to the cold. She'd traded her customary long black boots for shorter white ones, and accessorized with a bunny ear headband and a fake pocket watch hooked to the front of her bathing suit. Her face was painted white with little whiskers drawn on the cheeks and was conspicuously not encumbered with her glasses, which were usually firmly affixed to her face. She was struggling to tie a red ribbon around her neck.

"Well I _ was _planning to be Crowley from the book Good Omens," she replied. "But I changed my mind last minute. Thought it would be funny."

“Crowley?” the Doctor asked. “Interesting choice.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ginger said. “One of those weird characters that I related to while also sort of having a weird crush on. Good thing nobody’s trying to do an adaptation, because I doubt an actor exists who could properly capture how totally awkward and not-cool that character is. They’d probably try to make him seem actually suave, and I can’t have that.”

“What were you gonna do about your hair?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Thought I could femme it up. Always got the feeling that Crowley doesn’t have a fixed gender, and either way, I always thought Crowley’s one of the few male-coded characters who could pull off being a red-head. It’s really only him and the Weasley twins.”

He thought about this. “You know, I always thought I could pull off being Crowley.”

Ginger scoffed. “You? Please. You’re not punk enough. Crowley’s always been my character, back off.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, privately amused. “So what’s this, then?” He gestured to her costume. “The White Rabbit?”

"Yeah," she said. "Told you I liked her. Though less and less by the second because this costume is more trouble than it's worth."

"Yeah it does look a bit cold," he said, slightly concerned.

She rolled her eyes. "That's not it. It's the stupid. Fucking. Bow-Tie!"

He noticed her struggling and was pretending not to be amused. "You need a little help with that?" he asked, tenderly.

"Ugh!" she groaned, clearly getting frustrated. "Yeah, okay, I'm useless at tying things just get it fixed before anyone sees."

He stepped out of the doorway of the TARDIS and stood right in front of her, closer than she had anticipated when she'd asked for help in this moment of desperation. She couldn't help but notice how well the Wonka costume suited him, especially at this angle. She tried to shake that thought off.

"Where are Alex and Jack?" she asked.

"They said they'd meet us here around this time," the Doctor said. "Thought they'd be here by now, actually. Jack said he wanted time to prepare Alex for Halloween before we could corrupt her. Something like that."

"Might be a smart idea," she said, unable to think of anything else to say when they were standing in such close proximity.

The Doctor took the bow tie in his hands and tied it perfectly around her neck. "Next time, maybe go for a clip on?" he suggested. "They're much easier." Then there was a moment, one tiny moment where they both just looked at each other. He was finished tying the ribbon, but his fingers lingered a second more and they both noticed their proximity.

Then voices came from outside the alley, and the spell was broken. The Doctor and Ginger both simultaneously jumped away from each other.

"Sounds like them!" Ginger said, awkwardly.

"I'll be right back!" the Doctor said.

"What?" Ginger asked. "Where are you going?"

"In there!" the Doctor pointed to the TARDIS. "I've got to go in and come back."

"Why?" Ginger asked.

"Because I rehearsed that entrance and they weren't here to see it!" the Doctor said. "And Rabbit, aren't you missing something?"

"What?" she asked, suddenly self conscious.

"Your umbrella!"

"Right!" Ginger smacked herself on the forehead. In the meantime, the Doctor slammed the door to the TARDIS and as it began to fade away Ginger raced into the open theatre door to grab her umbrella.

She heard Alex's voice from just outside. "Huh. Could'a sworn I heard the TARDIS."

"You did," Ginger called through the open door, though she was slightly out of their sight.

Jack and Alex both jumped.

"That you, Ginger?" Jack called back.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute," she replied. "So will Doc. You two were late so you didn't catch his dramatic entrance the first time."

The TARDIS began whirring back into sight, so the other two weren't looking in her direction when she emerged with the umbrella in hand.

The Doctor opened the door exactly the way he did before. "Come with me and you'll be in a world of pure imagination."

Alex immediately burst out laughing. "Wonka, Doc? Bit on the nose?"

"That's what I said," Ginger smirked, prompting them to look at her.

Alex and Jack both laughed this time. "What are _ you _?" Alex asked.

"A Playboy Bunny?" asked Jack.

Ginger was slightly offended. "First of all, many lovely people were Playboy Bunnies," Ginger defended herself. "Debbie Harry, for instance. Second of all, _ no _!"

"She's Lorina Dodson," the Doctor jumped in. "The White Rabbit? From the Spider-Man comics!"

"It's an inside joke," Ginger said. "With me and Doc. Doesn't concern you." She turned to Jack, then. "Anyway, you're one to talk. Riddle me this, Jack: Why would you presume to make fun of my costume when you're dressed as Ed Nygma?"

"Riddle me this," Jack said, clearly not at all self-conscious in his green spandex Riddler costume. "Where's the rest of your costume?" He earned a smack from Ginger's umbrella for that.

"A Marvel villain and a DC villain in the same place," the Doctor teased, leaning a bit on his walking stick. "What is this - a crossover episode?"

"All the adults in my life are insane," Alex said, seemingly torn between being amused and mortified. "Absolutely starkers. Why can't you dress like normal?"

"And _ you _, young lady," Ginger turned to Alex now. "You have some explaining to do."

"For what?" she asked, totally perplexed.

"You didn't dress up!" Ginger said. "I told you that you absolutely had to and you ignored it!"

"I didn't," Alex said, slightly stung and a bit surprised. "This is my costume."

"You're not getting away with the old 'I'm a homicidal maniac they look like everyone else' excuse, young lady," Ginger replied.

There was a slight pause in conversation. "Ginger," the Doctor said slowly, as if he'd just started to realize some valuable information. "She's clearly Marty Mcfly."

"Hm?" Ginger responded, still not getting it.

"From _ Back to the Future _," Jack jumped in.

"It's supposed to be funny," Alex said. "Since we do all this time travelin', you know?"

The realization of her mistake was dawning on her with a feeling of horror. It was too late now to play it cool so she decided to confess. "Ohhhhhh..." she said, slowly. "Yeah, I...haven't seen that one."

"What?" they all replied, in unison.

"I just don't really like time travel as a plot device," she shrugged.

"You what?" they all said, in unison.

"Yeah, I mean it all just gets confusing, doesn't it?" she justified. "Always the same things over and over about how you can't change the past and then they write themselves into a hole where there's a paradox and it becomes garbled nonsense. The worst is when there's no emotional consequence because of time travel. This week a character is dead or never existed and next week suddenly we find some way to reverse that rather than having an impact. It's extremely frustrating from a storytelling perspective. There have to be clear in-universe rules when you're writing scifi and if you break them continually than it can positively unravel canon."

"Those are...strong arguments from someone who's not wearing pants," Jack said, earning a smack from the Doctor's walking stick.

"Don't be rude!" the Doctor said.

"He meant it in the American way," Ginger said, rolling her eyes.

"Sure I did," Jack said, this time getting a dual smack from Ginger's umbrella and the Doctor's walking stick.

"Alright, so we need to commence with the Halloween festivities," Ginger said, getting on with it. She fished a small bag out of the pocket of her blazer and threw it to Alex. "First rule, Alex: Anyone who _ doesn't _give you candy deserves punishment. That's what trick or treat is for. Gimme a treat or I'm gonna play a mean trick on you."

"Why?" Alex asked, amused.

"Because without rules, Alex, society would just break down," Jack teased.

"Alright, Doc, so trick or treat?" Alex asked.

He grinned in a very Wonka-ish way. "You'll have to come inside to find out." And with that, he swung open the TARDIS door and beckoned them inside.

Ginger gasped audibly as she entered just behind the other two. The entire control room had been done up in spectacular Halloween apparel. There were string lights with flicker bulbs hung on every pillar while rubber bats dangled from the ceiling. Four pumpkins were strategically placed around the room under a low-lying cloud of mist.

"If you want to view paradise..." she breathed.

"Simply look around and view it," the Doctor smiled, standing just behind her. "You like it?"

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she admitted.

"Did you get a fog machine?" Alex asked, noting the mist.

"Don't be silly," Ginger said. "It's clearly dry ice. Fog machines have a more distinctive smell. Mist machines are a _ bit _better but the dry ice is the easiest method for what Doc was going for."

"Oh yes, how silly of me to mistake it for a fog machine," Alex said, sarcastically.

"So Doc, where's the candy?" Ginger demanded.

He smirked and produced a cauldron full of candy from all over space and time, which he began letting them all take handfuls of.

"I also thought we could carve these pumpkins," he said, nodding to them. "As I understand it, the carving of Jack o Lanterns is tradition on Earth."

"Oh but if we carve Jack o Lanterns then Jack will have to leave," Ginger teased.

"Why's that?" Jack asked.

"Because the original myth behind why we carve pumpkins told of a mean drunk named Jack who played tricks on the devil and wasn't allowed to enter heaven or hell when he died. He wanders for eternity playing tricks on people, so we ward him off with carved gourds."

"I didn't know that," Jack said.

"All the more reason to carve them!" the Doctor said.

"Alright, we'll carve Jack o Lanterns to keep Jack away," Ginger said. "But then I'm going to bring out the apples for you, Doc."

"Fair enough," he said.

...

"Pumpkin carving is so gross," Alex said, when she was finally nearly done with her pumpkin.

"Yes it is," Ginger said. "But it's what we must do to have kick-ass decorations so we don't complain about the rite of passage."

"Alright, mine's done," Jack said, placing his electric candle inside and turning it. "I present for approval by the counsel: A bat."

"Ooooh it's so cute!" Ginger said. "10/10."

"Yeah, 10/10," Alex agreed.

"It's simple, yet elegant," the Doctor said, slightly irritated again. "But deserves maybe an 8/10 at best."

"Well let's see what you've got!" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows in a challenge.

"Alright," he replied, putting a finishing touch on his pumpkin before inserting his candle. "I present for approval by the counsel: Jack o Skellington."

His was much more elaborate and showed a practiced sort of craftsmanship.

Ginger nodded approvingly. "Also a 10/10. The style is incomparable." The other two agreed and gave it the same rating.

Then it was Alex's turn.

"I present for approval by the counsel: A cat!"

It was a simple cartoon cat, just a bit more crude than the other two. Alex was clearly self conscious about it.

"It's adorable, I love it!" Ginger said. "Also a 10/10."

"And Ginger?" the Doctor asked, after they'd all given Alex's design a 10/10. "What've you got for us?"

"Alright," she said, finishing hers up. "I present for approval by the counsel: An atrocious stereotype about my people."

She turned hers around and it was carved to look like the classic depiction of an alien - big oval head and huge eyes and small neck.

"Aliens are your people?" the Doctor asked, not sure why he found this so endearing.

"Aren't you human, Ginger?" Jack asked.

She shrugged. "Who's to say? Sure I seem to be biologically human as far as a I know, but I always relate to aliens." She accidentally caught the Doctor’s eye before quickly looking down at her pumpkin. “So where to now?” She gasped, getting an idea. “Can we go to a haunted house?”

“You talking real ghosts or one of those tourist things?” the Doctor asked.

“We’re doing cheesy Halloween for Alex, Doc,” Ginger said. “Of course I mean the fake ones.”

“Sure, we could do that,” the Doctor said. “But you know what I always thought was a uniquely human thing that I’ve never tried? A corn maze. I mean it’s a puzzle, but it’s made out of corn.”

Ginger smiled to herself and spoke at the same time as him. “It’s a maize maze,” they said together. 

She smiled and looked him over, considering this. “Sure. I mean, I can dig that. An alien in a corn maze. Exactly as it should be.”

…

They arrived at the entrance to the corn maze and the Doctor looked it over with something akin to childlike wonder.

"A-_Maize_-ing," he said. He glanced at Ginger as if seeking approval. "Get it? A-_Maize-_ing?"

Ginger tried her hardest not to smile, but was having a hard time. She leaned in close to a sign and squinted at it.

"Do you need your glasses?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes," she said, shortly. She was squinting quite a bit.

"Then why don't you put them on...?" he goaded her.

"I didn't bring them," she replied.

"Why not?" Alex asked.

"Because Lorina Dodson doesn't wear glasses so for authenticity, neither do I."

"What about contacts?" asked Jack.

"I'm scared to death of contacts," she replied.

"Really?" the Doctor asked, with some amusement. "Why?"

"Putting something in so close to your eye?" she asked. "Gross."

“Alright, so who’s paying this time?” Jack asked.

"Oh we've been through this, I never carry money," the Doctor said. "How can I live a proper life as an anti-capitalist punk rock anarchist if I conform to the societal expectation to perform labor for the man whilst reaping little of the rewards? Am I expected to just be exploited for the profit of the wealthy? Am I expected to simply allow myself to become subjugated rather than living free on the fringes of society?"

Though the Doctor was saying this in a somewhat teasing way, Ginger couldn't help but finding herself suddenly feeling very warm and at a loss for words. What was it about him today that she liked so much? It was weirding her out.

Alex noticed Ginger's face and decided to snap her out of it. "Doc, shame on ya," she said, prompting Ginger to jump as she remembered they were not alone. "Trying to impress the girl with fancy words to get out of the fact that you're a layabout with no job. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing because you do a lot of good with your time, but fact is you never carry money because you, like Bobby Newport, have never had a real job in your life."

Ginger eagerly jumped on the bandwagon and put on a funny voice. "Bobby Newport!"

"Bobby Newport!" Alex replied in the same voice.

"The Doctor has never had a real job...in his life," Ginger finished, causing Alex to dissolve into giggles.

"Well, now-" the Doctor tried to cut in.

"Hey, you asked for this, Doctor," Jack said, grinning. “I’ll pay this time. My treat, since it’s little Alex’s first Halloween.”

“Oi!” she rolled her eyes. “Not so little!”

They paid and made their way into the corn maze, finding themselves immediately at a split with four paths branching off it.

“Betcha I can solve this thing first!” Ginger said, turning to the Doctor in a challenge.

“Oh you’re on!” he grinned, really enjoying this more fun side of Ginger. He turned to the others. “You two want in?”

“How much are we betting?” Alex asked. “I got about ten quid on me.”

“Ten quid it is, then,” Ginger said. “All of us betting on ourselves, then?”

“Absolutely,” Jack replied.

Ginger took off immediately into the path on the far left.

“Oi!” Alex said. “No fair! We didn’t say go!”

Ginger called behind her without stopping. “I’m a villain, Alex, I don’t play by rules!”

Jack snapped his fingers. “I should’ve thought of that!”

…

They ran around the maze for some time, each of them getting progressively more lost. Alex and Jack didn’t see the others for quite some time, but by some weird twist of fate, Ginger and the Doctor kept running into each other. The fourth time this happened, Ginger groaned in frustration.

“Are you following me, Doc?” she asked. “Because we keep running into each other and it’s starting to _ not _seem like coincidence.”

He put up his hands in surrender. “Not following you. Maybe our minds just work similarly. It’s possible we’re trying to work things out in the same way, so we keep ending up in the same place.”

She shook her head, still frustrated. “I should’ve insisted on getting a ball of string to help me navigate this thing.”

“That only works if you want to find your way out the way you came,” he pointed out.

“Or at least it could tell me where I’ve been,” she said. “Could look back at the paths I’ve taken a be like ‘oh don’t go down that one again’ instead of constantly feeling like I’m retracing my steps.”

“Not worried you’re gonna find a minotaur in here, are you?”

She put her hands on her hips. “Why would I be worried about finding a Minotaur? There’s only ever been _ one _ Minotaur! It’s not a race of beings! If it’s not Pasiphae’s son, it’s not the Minotaur. It’s just some regular bull-man. I mean, the _ name _ Minotaur literally means ‘the Bull of Minos’, so if it’s not _ Minos- _”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” the Doctor cut her off. “You’re fussy about your mythology.”

She crossed her arms sullenly. “I just value accuracy, is all.”

“It wasn’t a criticism,” he said. “Not exactly, anyway. Listen, though, since we keep ending up in the same place, why don’t we just team up?”

She looked at him suspiciously. “No way. Why would I do that?”

He shrugged. “Because it would be faster if we worked together.”

She deliberated for a moment, desperately trying to think of any reason not to do this. Then she sighed. “Fine. Just don’t slow me down.”

She took off down one path and they walked in silence for a minute. The Doctor glanced at Ginger out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you still have that Crowley costume?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Yeah. Why? You’re not getting it.”

“It’s just that I’m concerned that you look a little cold,” he admitted. “I can take you back to get it-”

“No, absolutely not,” she snapped. “I committed to this costume and I’m sticking with it. Besides, I’m not cold.” She drew her arms in tight to her chest.

He looked at her properly and smiled kindly. “Are you sure? Because you’re shivering and your legs have gone all pink-”

She looked sharply at him. “My legs? Why are you looking at my legs? Stop...looking at my legs.”

He could see that he’d crossed some boundary with her and looked away. “Right, yeah, sorry, won’t happen again.” They walked in silence for another moment. “So this is fun, isn’t it?” the Doctor said brightly.

“Walking?” she asked, skeptically.

“This whole Halloween thing,” he carried on as if she hadn’t replied. “Always wanted to do a Halloween, but never quite got round to it.”

“You’ve never done Halloween before?” Ginger asked, taken aback by this new information.

“We didn’t have it on Gallifrey,” the Doctor said. “Your holidays were some of the things that really interested me in this planet.”

“You didn’t have holidays?”

“We had holidays, of course we had holidays,” the Doctor replied. “There was Anmers-Tonastide, the Feast of Omega, the Feast of Rassilon, and we were one of the planets who observed the Rylaxian Festival. Oh and of course there was Otherstide - you can’t forget about Otherstide.”

“How silly of me to forget about Otherstide.” Ginger tried for her usual sarcasm, but wasn’t having much luck. She was genuinely interested.

“And of course some Gallifreyans celebrated the Thirteenth Night, but they’re generally considered a bit radical…” He lost himself for a moment before coming back to himself sharply. “My point is that none of those holidays even held a candle to some of the finer Earth traditions. The pageantry and the drama! I always wanted to be a part of something like that. I don’t have to tell you, though. You’re used to all this.”

She carefully considered her next words. “Actually I’m not.”

“No?” he asked.

“I’m always sort of on the outside of these things too,” she admitted. “Didn’t have the most normal childhood. Don’t have great memories about the holidays I’m supposed to like, and never really got a shot at what I really wanted to do.”

“Which is what?”

She gestured around. “This. Halloween. I always try to dress up and do something, but I’m always on my own so it...gets kinda sad. Just me and a bowl of candy. All dressed up and nowhere to go. This is the best Halloween I’ll ever have.”

He thought her phrasing was a bit odd. “You’ve ever had. That’s what you meant. You meant to say it’s the best Halloween you’ve ever had.”

She realized her mistake, but before she could say anything she noticed something strange in the sky.

“Hey Doc?” she asked, peering upward. “Friends of yours?”

“What?” he asked, turning to see what she was looking at.

There were lights in the sky coming ever closer as a disc-shaped craft crossed in front of the moon.

“Not exactly subtle, are they?” Ginger asked. “Don’t you people have, like, cloaking shields or something?”

But the Doctor was frowning. “Yeah, they would do. But if I’m right, and I think I am...I think that ship’s about to make an emergency crash-land.”

“How do you figure?” she asked.

He pointed at the craft. “You see how some of those lights are blinking orange? Universal sign of distress. Also it’s coming this way _ far _too fast for this to be planned!”

The flying saucer careened to the earth and landed in the maze with a large bang. The Doctor and Ginger exchanged a look.

“Last one to the ship’s a rotten egg?” Ginger asked, sprinting off in the direction of the crash.

“What, no concern? They could be hurt!” the Doctor shouted after her as he struggled to keep up. But even she could tell he was amused by her attitude toward the whole thing.

“Come _ on _, Doctor!” Ginger shouted behind her. “I want to see a real live spaceship!”

“You have!” he said indignantly.

“Uh-huh, sure I have,” she teased. “Look at that! He’s a got a real proper classic model, and what’ve you got? A Comet 260?”

“I...resent that!”

They emerged in the center of the maze to find that Alex and Jack had come to investigate as well.

“Cool!” Ginger exclaimed, looking at the wreckage of the ruined spaceship. “Look at that! It’s all future-retro and everything!”

Alex started to step towards the spacecraft. “Do you think they’re alright?”

Jack put out an arm to stop her from getting too close. “Stand back, they might be dangerous.”

Alex bristled at this. “I can handle myself, you know.”

“That was never in question, Podling,” Jack said. 

Ginger narrowed her eyes, latching onto the word. “Podling?” she repeated.

During all of this, the Doctor had managed to climb inside the small ship. He looked around for a moment before poking his head out of the open hatch. “It’s empty,” he said. “Whatever was in here is gone.”

“Gone?” Alex asked. “Where could it have gone that quickly?”

The Doctor appeared to be contemplating the same thing. “This is a Trescillan Transport Vehicle,” he explained. “The Trescillans are a shapeshifting species and are very private about their true forms. No one outside of the species has ever seen a Trescillan’s true form.”

Jack nodded. “I see. So you’re saying that it’s likely that the Trescillan landed and most likely took human form?”

“Or animal form,” the Doctor agreed. “But if it - or, more likely, they - didn’t immediately take animal form, they will soon.”

“Doctor,” Jack said. “Are we in danger?” He half-glanced at Alex when he said that.

“I wouldn’t think so,” the Doctor said. “They’re a peaceful people, they usually flee confrontation rather than go toward it. The Trescillans have more to fear from humans than humans do from Trescillans.”

“Why’s that?” Alex asked.

“Have you ever met a human?” Ginger scoffed. “They’re all shoot first, ask questions never.”

“She’s sort of right,” Jack said. “I tried to give you only the best impression of Torchwood, Alex, but the institute was founded on a premise of destroying alien lifeforms that entered Earth’s orbit.”

“Specifically me,” the Doctor grumbled.

“But Torchwood’s gone now, isn’t it?” Alex asked. 

“That’s true,” Jack said. “That doesn’t mean there aren’t still threats. UNIT, specifically.”

Ginger’s eyes widened as she latched onto that information. “UNIT? I’ve heard SO many conspiracy theories about them!”

“Most of them are probably pretty accurate,” the Doctor said, dryly.

They suddenly noticed the sounds of other people in the maze around them, and the Doctor jumped out of the vehicle before using the sonic to close the hatch again. 

“Listen to me,” he said. “This is very important. People are going to be getting here in a moment and I need to be sure that all of us are who were say we are. I think we are, but just as a precaution.”

Alex nodded. “Right, yeah, this is what I was always trained for.” She seemed very excited as she realized what was happening. “Jack, what’s the password?”

“Myfanwy,” he replied. “Alex, what were we doing the first time you met Gwen Cooper?”

“Playing paintball in the Hub,” Alex smiled. She turned to the Doctor. “And the first time we met, Doc, I had you convinced I was Torchwood, remember?”

“I do,” he said. “You were pretty out of it, as I remember. Do you remember what I said to you before I left that night?”

“I dunno, something about missing people?” she averted her gaze. “Like you said, I was out of it.”

“And how did I meet you, Jack?” the Doctor asked.

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” he grinned. “I was a con artist in WWII. How did I die the first time?”

“Daleks,” the Doctor said.

“And none of you really know me,” Ginger said, impatiently. “Doc just thinks he does because once he got super wasted on alien venom and started spouting nonsense.”

“Okay, so that’s _ definitely _her,” the Doctor said. The others silently agreed. “And just so you know it’s me, I still remember that ridiculous alien outfit you were wearing the first time we met.”

“What’s wrong with the alien outfit?” Ginger asked. “It’s cool!”

Just then, people began filtering in from the various paths of the maze.

“What’s going on here?” a man asked.

The Doctor took out his psychic paper. “You’re going to have to keep back and clear the area, there’s nothing to see here.”

“I’m the owner of this maze!” the man huffed, indignantly. 

“And as you can see, I’m police!” the Doctor waved the psychic paper in his face. “There’s been a mechanical accident, it’s nothing whatsoever to be concerned with. Any damage will be refunded. But is there some space where we could all gather? We have to take a few statements and it would be best to do it all now, together.”

“There’s a barn just up the hill, there…” the man said.

“Brilliant, that’ll work perfectly,” the Doctor said. “And what was your name, sir?”

“Mackinnon, sir.”

“Good to meet you, Mackinnonsir,” the Doctor replied with one of his disarming smiles. “Now if you could just instruct everyone to meet us up at the barn for statements, there’s a good chap.”

Mackinnon instantly got to the business of herding the remaining patrons up towards the barn.

The Doctor clapped his hands and turned to Ginger. “Alright, so first thing’s first. We need to get you a different costume.”

Ginger put her hands on her hips. “Me? Why?”

“Well first because I’m concerned that you’ll catch frostbite in that getup, but also because nobody’s gonna take you seriously asking questions if you’re wearing that.”

“Well that’s their problem then, isn’t it?” She blinked. “Wait, did you say you’re concerned?” She shook this off. “Never mind, why’m I the only one who’s gotta change? Like they’ll take Wonka, Ed Nygma, and some random time travelling child more seriously than they’d take the White Rabbit.”

The Doctor thought of how to phrase this delicately. “Well, I mean...Jack thought you were going for a Playboy Bunny...and everyone else is more than likely to as well…”

Ginger groaned and threw her hands in the air. “Fine,” she huffed. “Whatever. I’ve still got the Crowley costume in my bag.”

“If I remember the book right,” the Doctor said. “That costume will be much more likely to be taken seriously.”

“Because it’s male-coded,” Ginger grumbled to herself.

“We’ve gotta be quick, though,” the Doctor went on. “We’ve gotta get this solved before UNIT gets here.”

…

Ginger emerged into the main TARDIS control room and the Doctor looked her over.

“Much better,” he smiled. “Much more you.”

“Shut up,” she said, putting on a pair of dark sunglasses. “The whole point of this holiday is to _ not _be me.”

…

The four of them made their way to the barn and broke the witnesses into groups to be interviewed.

“They’re definitely in here somewhere,” Alex whispered.

“How did you deduce that, Torchwood?” the Doctor asked.

“I can just feel it,” she said. “Someone in here is more scared than the rest of them.”

The Doctor had that feeling again that there was something odd about Alex Mitchell, but thought it was not the time to say anything.

Alex smiled. “This is so cool,” she said. “I mean, I know we’ve faced alien threats before, but it’s cool to _ actually _be doing a Torchwood-style mission! It’s like a childhood dream come true!”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Jack warned her. “The only reason I didn’t ship you home is because the Doctor said these guys aren’t dangerous.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t take this away from me.”

…

They conducted a few interviews, and Alex was the one to signal the others that she’d found something. She’d barely sat down with this family of five when she just knew she’d found what she was looking for. The others saw her signal and began walking over.

“What’s your name?” Alex asked the mother. She hesitated. “Yeah, it’s alright, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t wanna.” She nodded at her and the kids. “Cool costumes.” She and her four children were all dressed in various wacky ways with different prosthetics and coloring.

“But they’re not costumes, are they?” Ginger said, finally reaching the table. “You got confused about what shape to take because you landed here on Halloween.”

“Don’t stand up to try to run,” the Doctor warned them. “Don’t call attention to yourselves. We’re trying to help you.”

“Help us?” the mother repeated, skeptically. “We know the reputation of humans. Why would a human help us?”

Ginger winced. “Please don’t lump us in with that lot.”

“We’re really trying to help,” Alex said.

“We don’t have much time left,” Jack reminded them. “UNIT will arrive any minute. We want to help you get back home before anyone notices you.”

“How?” the mother asked.

“I have a ship of my own,” the Doctor smiled, encouragingly.

“We have no home, not yet,” the mother replied. “We are fleeing violence on our homeworld. There is a religious conflict and we’ve been forced out.”

“Ah,” the Doctor said, a sudden understanding dawning on him. “I didn’t realize. Of course. This is the Great Trescillan Migration. Well that’s no matter, I know exactly where your new homeworld is going to be. You’re gonna love it!”

“We’ve been separated from our fleet,” the mother said. “There are others-”

“We can contact them, get them to change their route,” the Doctor said. “Oh you’re gonna _ love _your new homeworld! It’s beautiful, simply beautiful!”

“Who are you people?” the mother asked.

“Oh sorry, haven’t we introduced ourselves?” the Doctor said. “We’re-”

Ginger had the feeling he was about to really introduce them and wasn’t too happy about that. “I’m Crowley, he’s the Candyman. These are our associates, Ed and…” She looked at Alex for some help.

“Marty,” Alex reminded her. “Have you _ really _never seen Back to the Future?”

…

The Doctor managed to get the family into the TARDIS just before UNIT made it up to the barn.

“Doctor,” a man said, looking distinctly displeased. “Of course you’d be here.”

“Colonel Mace!” the Doctor said. “Not happy to see me?”

“We had satellite imagery of a spacecraft coming to Earth and tracked it here,” Mace said. “Found the ship just down the hill, empty. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Well, to be honest, we were just on to the same thing. But I’ve got this friend with me, Alex...Actually.” He opened the TARDIS door a crack and leaned through it. “Alex, could you come here, please?”

Alex emerged, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “What’s all this then?”

“Alex, here is 17,” the Doctor explained. “This is no place for a 17-year-old if there are dangerous creatures around. So I’m just gonna pop her home-”

“Are we getting a move on or what?” Ginger asked, also emerging from the TARDIS. Her eyes landed on the men from UNIT and she crossed her arms. “Oh. I see. UNIT, is it?”

“Crowley, don’t antagonize them,” the Doctor warned. He had a feeling that Ginger might not want these strangers knowing her chosen name.

“Why?” she scoffed, clearly not impressed. “They gonna shoot me with their little guns? Please. Military don’t impress me much.”

“Ma’am, I’d suggest you show some respect-” Mace spluttered, indignantly. 

“Oh it’s marshall law now, is it? You lot get a move on. Apparently there’s an alien on the loose around here. Your lot are supposed to go brutalize them, aren’t’cha?”

Mace spent a moment trying to decide how best to respond. “Until next time, Doctor,” he said, gesturing to his men to follow him into the barn.

The Doctor looked at Ginger who immediately rolled her eyes and went back into the TARDIS. The Doctor and Alex followed her.

“That was a huge risk, Ginger,” the Doctor said to her.

“Yeah, well, I speak my mind,” she replied. “We shoving off, then?”

The mother was huddled near the console with her children. The smallest of them spoke first. “What are these orange things?” he asked, pointing to the pumpkins.

“Jack o’Lanterns,” Ginger said. “They’re made from pumpkins.”

“Why?” the child asked.

“Because it’s Halloween.”

“What’s Halloween?”

“The best day of the year!” Ginger smiled. “A day of freedom and liberation!”

“How very fitting,” the mother said.

“I’ll tell you all about Halloween on the way to your new home,” Ginger said. 

“I wish we could’ve stayed in our old home,” the child said. 

“It was bad for you there,” Ginger said. “You can’t look back at it nostalgically. You’ve got to keep running forward and hopefully you can find a place you belong. Now...let’s see about getting you lot into some costumes. Can’t have a Halloween without some nice costumes.”

…

“This is incredible,” the Doctor said, after they’d landed on the planet and reunited the family with their fleet. “It was a historical mystery why the Trescillans suddenly began celebrating Halloween after their migration.” He smiled at Ginger. “Interesting linguistic fact: the word Halloween in Trescillan translates to ‘Independence Day’. It’s celebrated as such. All the 21st century American Halloween traditions, but in honor of finding a homeworld.”

“That’s amazing,” Ginger smiled, genuinely finding this fascinating.

The Doctor looked at her more closely. “You look good.” She looked at him sharply, so he hurried to say. “I mean, better. Somehow. You’ve got more color.”

She somehow understood what he was trying to say. “I feel better,” she admitted. “I don’t think I ever realized it before, but I think I always felt slightly headachey and shakey. This is the first time in my life when I haven’t.”

“Really?” the Doctor asked. “That’s interesting.”

“Funny that when we go way back in the past I usually feel slightly better,” Ginger said, thinking about it for the first time. “But being off Earth completely feels..._ amazing _...I dunno what that means.”

“Neither do I,” the Doctor admitted. “How do you like your first excursion off-world, Ginger?”

She smiled at him. “I love it.”

The Doctor smiled at her for a moment more before returning his attention to the rest of the celebration. “We’d better be going now,” he said.

“Going?” the mother said. “Why now? Please, you must all stay longer. Our honored guests. Our - what is the Earth word - angels?”

Ginger winced. “Don’t call me that.”

The mother gave her a knowing smile. “You wear this costume often, yes?”

“Eh, not as such-”

“Not this one specifically, but many that you wear each day? You are afraid that if anyone ever sees you for who you are, then they will turn away from you. To exist in your true form is the most significant form of vulnerability.”

“I, uh...Don’t really know what you want me to say here.”

The mother nodded. “My name is Raekella,” she said. “And these are my children: Harscilli, Favian, Joashine, and Tamalin. You have earned our trust here today, honored saviors.” She turned to the crowd of Trescillans gathered around them. “I call on all gathered here today! These beings have saved us and asked for nothing in return. I think we can be safe in revealing to them our true forms.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened. “Oh you,” he stammered. “You don’t have to do that. Really. It’s not necessary. I mean it would be an honor, especially from a scientific perspective, but really-”

“Nonsense,” Raekella replied. “We will grant to your our highest honor because you have not turned away from us in our time of need. I will begin.” 

A great plume of green light came from her as she began to change. Translucent blue tentacles grew from her and soon she was hovering in the air before them. The others followed suit.

“You’re all...blue space squids?” Alex asked.

Ginger was delighted. “I fucking love cephalopods.” 

When Raekella spoke again it was merely a voice in their minds. “We have showed you our true form on this day. Perhaps one day you will be brave enough to be who you are as well.”

…

“Where should we go now?” the Doctor asked as they made it back to the TARDIS. 

“We should have a proper movie marathon,” Ginger said. “Take us to the theatre at about 10 PM. Everyone should’ve cleared out by then. I can set up the big screen projector and we can watch something proper.” She remembered again that she was going away after this. “Alex can help me. It’ll be good for her to see how this works.”

…

Alex came up to the tech booth with Ginger to help her set up the projector.

“Ginger,” she began, slowly. “Can I ask again...where are you going? After all this is over tonight, I mean?”

Ginger paused for a moment before brushing this off. “Nowhere important. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s the thing, though, I _ am _ sort of worried about it,” Alex said. “Whatever’s wrong, you can tell us, you know? We can help you. The Doctor would help you-”

“He can’t help me with this.”

“He can help with anything! I really believe that! The Candyman can!”

“Alex-”

“Come on, Ginger, you don’t have to do this, whatever it is!” A note of desperation entered her voice. “I know you’re confused and scared and sad right now, but you don’t have to be!”

“How can you _ possibly _know that?” Ginger crossed her arms. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Alex insisted. “Ginger, I just...I have the worst feeling that you’re not ever expecting to see any of us again and I just...Ginger, please don’t go. Wherever it is, please don’t go. Just come to Bonfire Night with us! Sarah Jane's having a thing-”

Ginger found herself very moved by the girl’s passion, but was glad she was still wearing sunglasses. “Bonfire Night? No I...I don't do...socializing. Alex, this really isn’t the time to discuss this. It’s Halloween. Cheer up.”

…

Jack took Alex home after the movie was over, leaving the Doctor and Ginger alone. 

“You alright?” he asked her. She’d been very quiet.

“Yeah. Fine. You should get going.” She began climbing a rickety wooden staircase and climbed up through a hatch. 

The Doctor followed. “Wait! I still have some follow up questions!” He climbed through the hatch as well and was surprised to find himself on the roof. Ginger had moved fast, she was already sitting on the edge. “What are you doing?”

“Relax,” she rolled her eyes. “I just come up here to think sometimes. Alone.”

“So I can join you, then?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just sat down next to her.

“Alright, then. Pushy.” She groaned and gestured to her costume. “Still can’t believe I changed for a man.”

“I mean didn’t you initially?” he pointed out. “I just had you change back. And should I mention that it’s not all bad, I mean, I did this whole costume specifically to get your reaction. So we’re even.” She was still silent. “So what is it about White Rabbit? Why’s she your favorite?”

"I like her," Ginger said. "She's a complete wreck as a villain. Competent enough to actually be dangerous, but nobody wants to work with her because she's so bad at everything. Useless and never taken seriously. Relatable content, especially taking into account that old pocketwatch I inexplicably have despite knowing what time it is without it." She laughed to herself. “Guess I also did the same thing with Crowley. Completely useless demon. I mean not _ completely _ useless, his plans weren’t bad if you gave them any thought...just no good at being _ properly _evil, you know. So still useless.”

"You're not useless," the Doctor protested. “Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve read the book, but I always got the feeling that Crowley probably had pretty low self esteem. Was likely dealing with severe rejection.”

She ignored this. “So you really did this whole Wonka thing for me? That’s weird.”

“Thought it would be funny,” he admitted. “You have this affinity for Gene Wilder. You mention his movies _all the time. _I got the feeling that he meant a lot to you.”

She raised her eyebrows. "And you thought, what? You'd trick me into letting you mean anything to me by association?"

"No," he said, patiently. "I just thought maybe he'd put you at ease more. Give you something to poke fun at."

"You willingly picked a costume knowing I'd make fun of it?"

He nodded. "Of course. If I picked something serious then we'd have nothing to talk about. I enjoy the movie as much as you do, but I always got the feeling you took it a bit more personally. I thought maybe I could finally ask you why."

Ginger considered this. "He's just...such a comfort zone for me. Even though I've never met him. He's like the dad I never had. I'd watch all his movies on repeat and...I don't know. You turn on one of his films and the real world doesn’t exist for a bit. It’s all better and madder. And in every interview he’s such a good person. You know he was assaulted when he was in school?”

“No I didn’t know that,” the Doctor admitted.

She nodded. “He had it rough. But no matter what, he came out being such a good, kind person. Better than me, at any rate. Never got corrupted. I just instinctively trust him. And for some weird reason I trust you more dressed like that." She realized she said too much and clammed up.

He grinned, having caught that. "You trust me?"

"It's a primal early childhood attachment thing," she rushed to defend herself. "It's hard not to have an instinct to trust a Gene Wilder character. I mean, not that I'd really trust Wonka. He's clearly a mad trickster god. This costume works weirdly for you, though."

"How?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know, you just look good in it." She flushed as she realized what she'd said. "I didn't mean that! Just like...you don't think you feel a little Wonka? The original Wilder version, not the weird creepy Depp one?"

"It's just a costume," he shrugged. "I only wore it to get a reaction from you."

"No, but it's Wonka!" she protested. "When you're a kid watching that movie, you focus on all the wonder of the world he's built. It seems fantastic and wonderful even as it's actively trying to kill you. But I realized upon watching it as I got older that this character, Wonka, he's...sort of sad. Lonely. Listen past the words in 'Pure Imagination'. He's singing about how this place is paradise, but as the song goes on he seems to be slightly depressed. Just an old man with no one in the world, wanting to show someone else the wonders of his world so he can see it through their eyes. Growing up really is a curse."

The Doctor was a bit shaken by this. "Maybe you're reading a bit much into this. But I think doing this whole Halloween thing with you has made me understand you a bit better.”

“How do you figure?” she asked.

"The point of all this is that none of it is really you. The girl hiding behind the dark glasses.” He lifted a hand. “May I?” She hesitated, then nodded. He gently removed the sunglasses from her and was able to see for the very first time just how very green her eyes were without frames hiding them. He smiled. “That’s better. Now, as I was saying. You’re the actress who likes _ Dollhouse _ whose favorite holiday is Halloween. Because you don’t like yourself at all. You want to be someone else. Someone larger than life. Larger than _ your _life. Because this one isn't good enough for you."

She shivered. "Well you've just got me figured out, haven't you?"

"But it's true?"

She hesitated. "Yeah, it is," she admitted. "I just never feel right in my own skin. Everything feels too small. I've been looking for a way off this rock for the longest time. I always fancied being abducted by aliens. It seemed like the logical answer to my problems. I read everything I could find about them when I was a kid. Then I got in with a Scottish alien hunting group and we used to go round checking out sightings, but I never got to see anything. So I sort of gave up on it. Just like I did everything else. There's no use wanting anything in this world, you won't be able to have it."

"That's a pretty bleak way of looking at things," he said. "But you've found aliens now. You've got me."

"Sure, for right now," she said, dismissively. "Then you'll just go hopping on back to your planet like nothing happened."

"I won't," he said. "For one thing, my planet really is gone. I can't go back even if I wanted to."

"What happened?" Ginger asked. "Global Warming?"

"There was a war," he said. "Everyone lost. Now there's just me. I do understand, though, about feeling suffocated on your home planet. I've told you before, I hated life where I was. I had trouble playing by their rules, so I ran away. Got off planet. I didn't wait for someone to take me away, I just jumped at the opportunity. You say you waited your whole life to be abducted by aliens, and yet every time you're asked you hesitate."

"I'm just not ready to take my feet off the ground," she admitted. "I have to live with myself. I've maybe run as far as I can. I don't deserve to forget."

"Forget what?" the Doctor asked. "Ginger...are you in some kind of trouble? Because if you are we can help. Sarah Jane and Jack have connections, they can fix things up. You can tell me if you're in trouble."

She hesitated, confused as to why she suddenly wanted to tell him. "I'm always in trouble," she joked, finally. "Like that Lenka song, you know? Trouble is a Friend of Mine? Not a friend like Jack's friends, admittedly..."

"I can help too," the Doctor said, not letting her deflect. "For them to help they'd have to know everything, but I don't have that problem. I wouldn't have to know anything."

"How?" she asked.

"I could abduct you," he suggested. "Wow, that sounds so creepy when I say it."

"Yes it does," she said, grinning. The mood had just gotten a bit less serious.

"But I can take you away from all this," the Doctor said. "Just like you always wanted. Keep running. With me. I can take you with me."

"You can?" she asked.

"The Candyman can," he teased back. 

The night suddenly felt uncomfortably warm despite it being a cold night in October. She was suddenly very aware that he was wearing his glasses.

“Very odd, you wearing your glasses and me not wearing mine,” she said, somewhat uncomfortably. “Like the roles have been flipped or whatever.”

He smiled. “Are you nearsighted or farsighted?” he asked.

“What?”

“Your glasses,” he said. “I always wondered.”

“I’m nearsighted,” she admitted. “Shortsighted, some would say. I’ve never been able to see the big picture.”

“Ah, see, I’m the opposite,” he said. “I’m far-sighted. I always see what’s coming, but I never see what’s...right in front of me…”

There was a strange sort of gravity between them, one that neither of them could quite explain. The rest of the world seemed to melt away. 

“I…” Ginger said. “Can’t.”

“What?” he said, struggling to keep up.

“This is all too...I just...I can’t.” A clock struck midnight and she jumped to her feet. “You’d better go.”

“Ginger, what…” He got to his feet as well. “Please, would you just talk to me?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, stiffly. “Not ever again.”

“Don’t talk like that,” the Doctor said, the sound of those words sinking like a cold stone in his stomach. “Please, just slow down for a moment. I know you don’t want to talk about it, I can understand and respect that. But at least...Give me some way to contact you. Or somewhere, somewhen, that I will see you again.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Where are you going? Ginger, I don’t like the sound of this. Please, at least tell me where you’re going.”

“I still haven’t decided if I am, but it doesn’t matter. It’s November now.”

“You can still do whatever it is you want to do later,” he insisted. “You can come travel with me and I can pop you back like nothing happened.”

“I said no-”

“Fine, then let me come with you!”

She blinked. “What?”

“I don’t want you to go alone, so let me come with you.”

“No,” she said, firmly. “I don’t want that for you. I need time. I need space. Please just...give that to me.” Her voice trembled slightly and she turned to go.

“Ginger please,” the Doctor tried again, surprising himself with the note of desperation that entered his voice. “I don’t want you to go. Please don’t go.”

She kept her back turned then finally replied: “That’s not up to you, is it? Goodbye, Doctor. Don’t try to follow me.”

Then she disappeared down the hatch, leaving him up on the roof alone.


	18. Not Your Kind of People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Meribor, who came up with the basic concept of introducing bullying in this episode! This episode is particially written by Meribor!

The first few weeks of November were agonizing, at least in Alex’s view. Bonfire Night was fun, of course. Sarah Jane had everyone over. But there was one absence that was felt very particularly by a large part of the party.

“You lot are very quiet,” Sarah Jane pointed out. “Which is not usual for you, particularly.” She added this last part to the Doctor. “Something I should know about?”

“Nothing, Sarah Jane,” Alex answered for everyone, smiling reassuringly. “Really. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Sarah Jane sensed there was something amiss, but thought it best not to press. At least this time. Normally she would’ve said something, but she trusted the Doctor and Jack to tell her if it was something serious. “Alright,” she replied. “Just let me know if you need anything?”

“We will,” Alex replied. “Thank you, Sarah Jane.”

Sarah Jane patted her on the shoulder and moved on to greet Luke and Sanjay, who were just arriving from London.

“_ Are _you alright, though?” Jack pressed Alex.

She shrugged. “Better than him, at any rate.” She nodded at the Doctor.

The Doctor’s eyebrows shot straight up. “Me? What about me?”

“You’re so worried about her that it’s making me ten times more worried about her,” Alex said. “I’d say you maybe need to chill, but I don’t know if we’re _ under _reacting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Doctor replied dismissively.

“Come off it,” Alex said, flippantly. “I know when you’re worried about something and this is the most worried I’ve seen you in ages. You’re practically having a fit.”

“A _ fit _?” he repeated, indignantly. “What exactly am I supposedly having a fit about?” He challenged her as he leaned in, his body language reinforcing the agitation in his voice. 

Alex gave Jack an incredulous stare hoping for some corroboration. "Oh _ you _ started it," he submitted.

“About _ Ginger _ , you numpty," Alex snapped. "_God, _ if I didn’t know you were technically a genius, I’d have no way of knowing that you’re being _ intentionally _thick.”

"Easy!" On top of being flustered by her intuition now he was agitated with her impertinence. “Ginger!? Why should I be worried about Ginger?” He withdrew just to puff his chest out again.

“Maybe for the same reason the rest of us are,” Jack finally chimed in. “Where did she go? Why won’t she tell us where she went or when she’s coming back?" He threw his hands up in frustration, but not with the Doctor. “How come none of us know where she lives or have a way to contact her? I didn’t even realize how much we didn’t know until she went away.” 

“She made it clear it wasn’t any of our business,” the Doctor reminded them both, as he had needed to remind himself. 

“And you’re nosy beyond belief,” Alex pointed out. “The fact that you haven’t looked into it is, y'know, honestly, astonishing.”

“I could look into it,” Jack said. “Or Mr Smith could-”

“No,” the Doctor said, firmly. “That would be a total invasion of her privacy.”

Alex shifted gears. “Doctor," she pleaded, "this could be serious. I have a really bad feeling about this. Why haven’t you tried to get anything out of her?”

“What makes you think I can?”

“Because she _ likes _you and I’m sure you can get through to her if you put in the right kind of effort,” Alex encouraged.

“'Likes' me?” the Doctor repeated. “Where’d you get the idea that she likes me? She’s made it clear over and over that she doesn’t.”

“Come off it,” Alex said, fed up with his condescending tone. “You _ know _ she likes you, and you like her. You should’ve tried harder! Gotten _ something _out of her!”

“I did try!” the Doctor said. “I begged her not to go or to at least let me come with her so I could know she was safe!” He blurted out before realizing that he’d given too much away. He thought he might as well push forward. "But she... as good as told me to get lost and left me standing there! Tell me again what I could’ve done differently!" He asked her, defensively. "What did _ you _do to try to stop her?”

Alex found herself at a loss. “I... tried too. I actually tried to make her come to Bonfire Night. But she avoided the whole thing. I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”

The Doctor softened. “I’m sorry too. I guess I’m more worried than I want to admit. But we can’t push it. We've tried. It's futile." He moved to sit next to her. "Ginger made it very clear that she didn’t want our involvement in whatever’s happening. She’s a very private person and I’m...trusting that it will all work out if we don’t crowd her.”

“That’s an unusual position for you to take,” Jack pointed out.

“It is,” the Doctor said. “It’s actually driving me a bit mad, if you really want to know.”

"That's enough." Stated an insistent though polite voice. "If you are going to have a domestic in my home I at least deserve to know what it's about."

The trio turned toward the kitchen to see Luke and Sanjay looking uncomfortable and Sarah Jane standing her ground. 

"And don't say 'everything's fine,'" Sarah Jane added at Alex.

“Mum,” Luke began. “I’m not sure now is the time.” He was clearly embarrassed to have any of this going on in front of his boyfriend.

“Luke, why don’t you and Sanjay go finish up cooking?” Sarah Jane said, putting her hands on her hips. “Sky, you can go with them. I think I need to have a talk with these three.”

“Are you sure-” Sky began.

“All three of you _ out _,” Sarah Jane shooed them. “Now. What’s the problem?”

Alex glanced at the Doctor and Jack before sighing. “Look, it’s not anything about us. We’re all fine. We’re not intentionally keeping secrets.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s a friend of ours,” Alex said.

“I’d hesitate to call her a friend,” the Doctor said. “She wouldn’t like it.”

“She’s a friend,” Alex insisted. “She’s sort of run off and we’re worried about her.”

“But we’re not going to go around telling everyone her business,” the Doctor said. “She wouldn’t like it.”

“Run off?” Sarah Jane asked. “What do you mean run off?”

“We literally mean that she ran off,” the Doctor said, dryly.

“And you,” Sarah Jane’s eyes landed on the Doctor. “You’ve not asked for my help finding her? If you and Jack are having trouble, Mr Smith could at least-”

“None of us have tried to find her,” Jack said. “The Doctor won’t let us.”

This confused Sarah Jane. “You’re worried about her and you won’t go looking for her?”

The Doctor tried to think of how best to respond, casting his eyes up at the ceiling. “She wouldn’t like it. She told us not to interfere.”

“And that...stopped you?” Sarah Jane was stunned.

“I’ve got to try to let people go, Sarah Jane,” he said. “She made it clear she wants nothing to do with us. So why should I put more pressure on her?”

“I just think it’s very unlike you,” Sarah Jane said.

“That’s what I said,” said Jack.

“Please, just leave it,” the Doctor said. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

…

They gathered outside later in the night to watch the fireworks and Alex could tell the Doctor had something he wanted to say. She waited for him to come out with it.

“What do you mean she likes me?” he asked, finally. “I mean, that’s really vague, Alex. Did she say something?”

Alex groaned and buried her head in her hands before looking at him and sighing. “She didn’t have to. Anyone could tell.”

“How do you mean?”

She was losing her patience but knew if she didn’t answer this question he’d just get more annoying about it. “You always hurt so much, Doctor,” she said. “You always seem to be in so much pain. But sometimes when you’re with her there’ll be a moment when you seem to be in... less pain. And she’s the same way. It’s obvious. When you’re together, you drive each other mental but you almost forget to be in pain for a moment. And isn’t that the same as liking each other?” 

The Doctor was struck again by the feeling that Alex was uncannily on the mark, and couldn’t help but wonder about her intuition. '_ It's obvious _.' But was it really? “How do you know all this?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I’m not an expert. Leave it alone, will you?”

…

The weeks carried on like this, with the Doctor dropping by very often and sometimes without warning. A lot of the time they’d all try to pretend like nothing was amiss, but other times they couldn’t help but speculate about what had happened to their missing friend.

On the 14th, the Doctor stopped by unannounced again to find the Bannerman Road house a flurry of activity.

“Come on, Sky,” Sarah Jane was saying to the closed bathroom door. “Must we go through this every time?”

Sky’s voice could be heard sulking through the door. “But I don’t wanna go. What’s so bad about not growing up anyway?”

“You say that but you’re always complaining about wanting to be 'normal',” Sarah Jane pointed out gently. “Come on, dear, it’s time to get going. Don’t want to be late.”

The Doctor caught sight of Alex who was just entering the corridor. “What’s going on here?” he said softly.

“Same thing that does every month,” Alex said. “I’ve got this. Watch and learn.” Alex sidled up to the door and knocked softly. “Sky? It’s Alex. Ready to go?”

“Think I’m gonna skip it this month, Alex,” Sky said. “I mean it this time.”

“I know you don’t like it, I wouldn’t either,” Alex reassured her. “But it’s what’s best, right? Listen, the place is up near the museum, right? Why don’t we pop round and visit Luke after your appointment?” She looked at Sarah Jane to make sure this was alright. Sarah Jane nodded. “Then maybe we can stop by the shops after? You always like going to the shops!”

The door opened. “Oh alright then. If we can go to the shops. I do still have that gift card you gave me for my birthday last month,” she perked up slightly. 

“Go get dressed,” Alex said, patting her on the head fondly. “We’ll wait here.”

Sky went upstairs to get dressed and the Doctor turned to Sarah Jane and Alex. 

_ What’s going on here? _ his look seemed to ask, though he wasn't sure it was his business. He just couldn’t help but ask questions. Call it natural curiosity.

“Y'know. Shot time." Alex was surprised. "You do know about that, right?”

“Generally people don’t ask things they already know the answer to,” the Doctor said. “Unless they’re trying to catch you in a lie or something, but I promise I’m not doing that.”

“You’ve been coming round here for years now and you’ve _ never _been here on clinic day?” Alex asked.

“I think we intentionally scheduled it that way,” Sarah Jane reminded her. “This was always just Sky’s business. Why are you here, Doctor? Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

He didn’t really have an answer to that. “I was bored, I guess? Sorry, I can go if it’s a bad time.”

Sky came back into the room then. “It’s alright,” Sky said. “He can come along. I don’t mind. He might be a laugh at the museum.”

“Oh right! I keep forgetting that Luke interns at the British Museum,” the Doctor said. “All grown up now.”

Sarah Jane smiled. “You do have to occasionally wonder where the time’s gone.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor agreed, ruffling his hair. “Unless you’re me and know for sure. Anyway!” He clapped his hands. “Where are we going? Will there be a little shop? Not much for shopping centres, but I love a little shop.” He flashed a hopeful grin. 

Alex rolled her eyes. “You’re worse than she is.” She nodded at Sky, who was now grinning as well. 

…

“Camden,” the Doctor said. “Why’ve we come all the way out to Camden?”

“I told you,” Sarah Jane said. “Sky had an appointment.”

“But still,” the Doctor said. “Camden? Couldn’t her appointment be closer?”

Sky looked at Sarah Jane. “You can tell him if you want. I don’t mind. Just...wait til I’m in so I don’t have to actually listen to you explain.”

“Fair enough,” Sarah Jane said.

They walked into a nondescript brick building. Their noses were immediately assaulted with the smell of chemical disinfectants. Sky went straight to the nurse to sign in. She’d done this before. They all went to sit down.

“We’re in a doctor’s office,” the Doctor stated the obvious. “Why?” He looked at Sky with some concern. “Are you sick?”

She simply smiled at him before holding a hand out to Sarah Jane. “Can I have a mint?” Sarah Jane reached in her bag and handed it over. “It helps calm me down,” Sky explained. “I focus on the mint, not the...smell here.”

A nurse came out from a small door. “Sky Smith?”

“That’s me, then,” Sky smiled, getting to her feet. She definitely seemed anxious.

The Doctor noticed that Alex had gotten up too. “Are you allowed to go back with her?” he asked. 

“Always have done before,” Alex replied. “She doesn’t like going without me. It’s fine, trust me.”

“Should you go too?” the Doctor asked Sarah Jane.

“It’s alright,” Sky assured her. “You and the Doctor can talk. You don’t need to be there every time.”

“If you’re sure?” Sarah Jane said.

“I am. Gotta get used to it eventually, right? I mean I’m gonna have to do this like a grownup someday.”

“That’s not-”

But Sky simply smiled. “It’s fine. Really. Someone should keep the Doctor company. He _ definitely _can’t come back.”

“Sarah Jane,” the Doctor began as soon as the two girls were out of earshot. “What’s happening?”

“Don’t be so worried about it,” Sarah Jane assured him. “She’s not sick or anything.”

“Then why-”

“She wasn’t growing,” Sarah Jane said. “Sky was...created, shall we say. Like Luke was. But she wasn’t growing like Luke was. It started to worry me. So I took her to get some consultations.”

“...And?”

“It's her ovaries. They didn't develop properly, you see.” Sarah Jane said sotto voce. “And a lot of the proper glands that should produce hormones - specifically ones that were related to growth and development - don't work properly," she explained. "Probably because it was never intended that she grow up at all. So she has to come once a month for injections of hormones. I mean she doesn’t have to. She was built in such a way that staying small forever wasn’t hurting her. But she looked around at the other kids and was so self conscious about it. So she hates getting the injections, but she feels better because she’s getting them. She’s finally starting to grow, which is good. But this will be the new normal, at least until we can get her to a place where she’s ready to stop growing.”

The Doctor picked up on a note of guilt in her voice. “You’re doing the right thing. Sky can’t remain a child forever. She has to grow up.”

“Dr. Snead would like to try a sub-dermal implant. They're designed to slowly release hormones over a period of six months, some even longer. But Sky balked as soon as she heard the word 'implant.' As much as she hates the shots, she hates change. Like I said, it's her new normal, 'normal' being the key word." She didn't want to get into the gravity of that word possessed in her home. "I just wish I could make it less painful for her.”

“I know. Any parent would.” A short silence fell between them. “So how does Alex figure in to all of this?”

“She’s the only one who knows,” Sarah Jane said. “She’s brilliant, you know. Figures things out. Sky didn’t want anyone to know she 'wasn’t normal,' but when Alex moved in with us it was impossible to keep it a secret. Alex knew things were up and she took it upon herself to help Sky through it. She’s almost done a better job than I ever could. I used to have to drag Sky kicking and screaming to her appointments. She just hates them. It wasn’t every time, of course, but...After Alex got here it all got easier. She just knows what to say. I don’t know how, but she’s made it so much easier for her. I don’t know what we’d do without her. Sky looks to her for everything now it would seem.” She didn't feel the need to elaborate on this now, either.

“Do you ever think she’s a bit odd?” the Doctor asked. “Alex, I mean. You say she knows the right things to say...But she _ always _does. All the time. Just cuts to the truth of things you don’t even know you’re feeling.”

“She’s intuitive,” Sarah Jane shrugged. “I’ve always said so.”

“Yeah, but do you ever think it might be more than that?”

“I don’t know, Doctor. But I think she, like Sky, would appreciate if we’d just leave them be and treat them like normal teenagers.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right. Normal. Since when is 'normal' fun?”

She chuckled. "I don't know! Since I met you all those years ago things have never been 'normal'!"

“And you don’t regret that?” he asked fondly.

She reached out to clasp his hands in hers. “Never,” she assured him. 

…

“So how are you finding the museum, Doctor?” Luke asked. “Fairly accurate?”

The Doctor was trying not to be too critical, but wasn’t quite hiding it well. “I, for one, think all these priceless treasures from brilliant civilizations should be here in Britain. It’s exactly the place for them to be. Where they belong.”

Alex picked up on the Doctor’s slight irritation and it only made her amused. “Come on, out with it. Give us the real opinion. No one else is gonna say it.”

“Someone else would’ve,” the Doctor said, under his breath. “I know someone who would have a _ very _strong opinion about this. She’d say it so I wouldn’t have to.”

Alex knew instantly who he meant. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s time to have our own opinions instead of agreeing with the loudest one in the room. So what do you really think?”

He took a deep breath. “I just think that these artifacts were ripped away from their cultural history and should be given back to those cultures.”

Alex smiled sadly. “Yeah. She would’ve said that, wouldn’t she?”

“Right,” the Doctor said, changing the subject quickly. “Why don’t we do one more exhibit? I know! Let’s go to Mesopotamia!”

“Mesopotamia?” Luke asked. “Why?”

The Doctor grinned. “Aw come on that’s _ what I want _.”

Sky tilted her head to the side. “Why did you say that in that different way?”

The Doctor blinked. “Come on. Mesopotamia! By the B-52’s! Blimey, tough room.”

“Oh I remember that band,” Sarah Jane said. “They were the odd one, right? Americans? Love Shack, right?”

The Doctor just stared. “You know, forget Mesopotamia! Let’s just go to the shops, yeah?”

…

They left Luke at the museum with their thanks and went on to the shopping centre. The Doctor and Sarah Jane weren’t much for shopping, and they knew Alex wasn’t nearly as into it as Sky was. So they were perplexed by her sudden interest in the activity.

Sarah Jane knew it would be a bit embarrassing for the teenagers to be caught shopping with adults, so she gave them some spending money. “Why don’t you girls go ahead to the shops? The Doctor and I can meet you for lunch in an hour.”

Sky was really in a much better mood now - it was as if the unpleasantness earlier in the day hadn’t happened. “Thanks mum!” she exclaimed. “An hour?” She took out her phone to set a timer, then made certain Alex saw it. "Okay. We will meet you here, in one hour, right?" Sky wanted confirmation. 

“Yes. Here in one hour. See you then,” Sarah Jane ensured Sky saw her check her watch then waved them off.

“So,” the Doctor said. “What should we do for an hour? In a shopping centre. In linear time.”

Sarah Jane smiled, amused by how this reminded her of old times. “You really do get bored so easily, don’t you? You always were a bit hyperactive.”

The Doctor pretended to be offended. “Hyperactive? Me?” 

“You couldn’t sit still if we tied you down,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

He couldn’t help but smile. “It’s nice to have some time, just the two of us. Like old times. I’ve missed that.” He put his hands in his pockets and looked off dazedly at nothing. 

They began walking aimlessly.

“I have too,” she admitted. “But I have a family now. Everything I could want. I’m happy.”

The Doctor looked at her closely. “Are you?”

She laughed. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He hesitated. He’d had something he wanted to say for a while now, but hadn’t been able to say. He thought now might be the time. “I’m sorry, I should’ve brought it up sooner but...I was afraid that it was too soon. And that it would make it worse coming from me.”

“Hm? Too soon for what?”

“Just that...last time we saw each other. Before Alex, I mean. I wondered how you were...coping. With that.”

She suddenly understood. “Ah. Yes. That was quite some time ago. Six years ago.”

“It wasn’t quite that long for me,” the Doctor admitted. “I’m still trying, you know. To follow up leads on the Trickster.”

“Are you?” she asked him. She knew him too well and could tell he’d been distracted. But he knew her well enough to know that she didn’t blame him.

He thought about this. “I may have...gotten a bit distracted. Side-tracked, might be the better term-”

“It’s alright,” Sarah Jane said gently. “I never asked you to go looking for him in the first place. I want you to still have your life and enjoy it. I’d rather you be safe and coming to visit Alex every so often. We do like having you around, you know.”

“But how are you, Sarah? What the Trickster did to you was so cruel. I can’t even imagine what that must be like.”

She softened. “It’s still hard sometimes when I think about it. But it gets easier every day. My kids are a great help." She paused thoughtfully. “You have to understand that I loved him. I really did. The Trickster picked someone perfect for me - or at least as near to perfect as he could get. That’s the part I haven’t been able to get past. I was so willing to fall for it because it was something I wanted so badly." She knew the Doctor was the only person with whom she could share this confession. Even so, she felt vulnerable. "I would’ve given up everything, left the universe totally wide open for the picking just for that one chance at happiness.”

“I don’t believe that,” the Doctor said.

“That was the whole point, Doctor. Distracting me, getting me to give it all up-”

“I really don’t believe it would’ve worked,” he said, firmly. “The Sarah Jane Smith I know couldn’t just walk away, and she wouldn’t be with any man who tried to make her. Maybe you’d try for a while to keep this part of yourself secret, but you can’t keep yourself from doing the right thing. It’s who you are.”

She smiled sadly. “You can’t know that for certain. It was a very difficult decision. I nearly couldn’t bring myself to let him go.” She paused. 

“I can understand how that would feel,” he said. “I felt that way with…” He trailed off and she knew he meant Rose. “But in the end I did what was right. For everyone. As you did.”

"But it wasn’t easy, was it? There was a part of you that almost couldn’t let her go. Can’t you imagine some version of yourself giving into it?”

“No.”

“Really? Haven’t you ever had anyone that you would give everything up for? Someone who could get you to compromise everything you believed in for a chance at happiness?”

“Never,” he insisted. “I wouldn’t just throw it all away like that. I couldn’t. Nor could you. Because at a certain point if you’re so willing to let others suffer for your chance at brief happiness it stops being love and starts being desperation." There was a certainty in his voice that she found hard to disbelieve. “The amount of justifications you’d have to give to yourself daily would...they’d just be staggering.” He took a deep breath and stared into space as he considered this. “One day you’d wake up and realize what you’d done and you wouldn’t be able to live with it anymore. It wouldn’t matter how you still felt.” He was lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to it. “But you’re alright, aren’t you? You’d tell me if you weren’t?”

“Like you’d tell me if you weren’t?” she shot back, not unkindly. “Like with this friend? The one you lot have been so secretive about for two weeks?”

“Oh it’s a long story, Sarah Jane…” He started to say before his eyes focused on someone sitting at a table at the food court. “I don’t believe it.”

Sarah Jane was perplexed. “What?” 

“It can’t be,” he said. 

“Doctor, what is it?” she asked, trying to find the subject of his gaze.

He looked back at her. “What’s that expression? Speak of the devil? Well I guess you only need to think about her and she appears.” He began walking ahead without her.

“_ What _?” Sarah Jane caught up to him quickly. 

The Doctor stopped in front of a table upon which was a small laptop. Behind that laptop sat a young woman whose red hair was sticking out at odd angles from beneath a pair of headphones. She looked up instantly as soon as she realized people were approaching. Her green eyes got wide beneath her glasses.

“Aw _ hell _,” Ginger muttered to herself, taking off her headphones.

“You’re here!” the Doctor managed to choke out, waving his arms loosely to indicate the entire shopping centre. His relief was so evident that it was unclear if he was having trouble forming words or thoughts or whether his problem lay in the act of breathing itself. “Here! I thought…” He swallowed, regaining his composure. “What are you doing _ here _? Thought you were going away? This isn’t a ten minute walk from the theatre!”

“If you recall,” she pointed out. “I said I _ might _be leaving. I still haven’t decided on if I am. But that doesn’t give you the right to stalk me.”

“I wasn’t _ stalking _you!” the Doctor replied, indignantly. “I was...we were…” He shook his head furiously. “Well obviously you’re fine, there’s no use wasting any more of your time.”

“I agree,” Ginger said. “You’re interrupting John Oliver.”

Sarah Jane was completely lost during this whole interaction, but felt as if she might be figuring it out. “Sorry…” she said, looking at the Doctor. “Doctor, who’s this?”

Ginger noticed Sarah Jane for the first time. “What business is that of yours? Who are you to be asking questions?”

“Sarah Jane Smith,” she replied. “Journalist.” 

“Journalist,” Ginger repeated. “I can respect that. As long as you’re not the Daily Mail or Fox or Breitbart.”

“Nothing so crass, no,” Sarah Jane replied.

“Long as you keep your eye on the target,” Ginger said. “Take people to task. Try to get at the real truth. I don’t much like rags that are intent on smear campaigns.”

“What did you say your name was again?” Sarah Jane asked.

“Why?” Ginger raised her eyebrows. “Waiting for a scoop? Think I saw an icecream joint round the way if that’s your fancy.”

“You’re quick with words, aren’t you?” asked Sarah Jane.

“More like obsessed with them,” Ginger said. “Still looking for the right ones.”

“Such as a name?”

“Wait, you’re Sarah Jane?” Ginger said this as if coming to a realization, but anyone could see that this was an act. “Right. So that would make you the Sarah Jane that Alex is living with?”

“You know Alex?” She’d also gathered suspicions of her own, but thought it wasn’t yet the right time to produce conclusions aloud.

Ginger considered her next words carefully. “_ They _call me Ginger.”

“Ah.” Suspicion confirmed. “You’re the one that’s been teaching Alex theatre stuff. And it’s alright if I call you Ginger?”

“Suppose. Just don’t go dropping it around everywhere.”

“Ginger Who?”

“Just...Ginger.”

Sarah Jane smiled and turned to the Doctor. “Cut from the same cloth as you, I see?”

Just then a voice spoke from behind them.

“Don’t be so blind, Sarah Jane. She’s clearly pleather and he’s obviously tweed. Don’t insult the girl.” 

“Alex,” Ginger said. “How long have you been...I didn’t know _ everyone _ was here.”

Alex felt both relieved and resentful to see Ginger. "And everyone didn't know _ you _ were here. Or _ anywhere _ for that matter," Alex said in a way that intended to convey her mixed feelings. “Anyway, we’re not all here. Jack’s still up in Ealing.” 

Sky was delighted to see Ginger for the first time since the medieval fair. Ginger hadn't greeted her; she must not have seen her yet. Sky knew it was impolite not to acknowledge someone but that interrupting was considered rude as well. Just then she arrived at a solution. She stepped near Alex and peered at Ginger intently. When she caught her sightline, Sky waved buoyantly.

Ginger found herself caught off guard again, feeling not so much confronted as awkward. She wasn’t used to being acknowledged, especially in such a genuine way. It was disarming in a peculiar way. She didn’t know exactly what she should do, so she stiffly raised a hand to not so much wave as to jerk her hand slightly in acknowledgement. She could feel the rest of the group watching this interaction curiously and refocused herself after clearing her throat.

“Why’re you…” Ginger began, glancing quickly at the Doctor before returning her gaze to Alex and making a concentrated effort to not seem accusatory. “What’re you up to?” The wording was so casual that she couldn’t help but seem slightly awkward by comparison. The Doctor noted how she was suddenly avoiding looking at any of them and was moving her thumb against her forefinger, scratching the nails together in an unconscious nervous tic.

“We were just up at the museum,” the Doctor said. “Fancied lunch.”

“You were at the museum?” Ginger asked. “And what did you think of it?”

“Well,” he said, resting his left hand on his hips while ruffling his hair with the other. “It was...interesting. ‘Course there’s something to be said for ripping a piece of history away from its context. One wonders if it’s quite ethical.”

The corner of Ginger’s mouth twitched, but she quickly dashed the amused smile away. “Sure,” she said, reminding herself to table this discussion for a later time. Then she remembered she wasn’t planning on there being a later time. 

Alex zeroed in on this - it was evident to all involved that Ginger was uncomfortable. “How are you?” she asked. “We’ve all been so worried about you.”

Sky knew that she should pay more attention, but was finding it difficult. She hadn’t known that everyone was worried about Ginger and was confused as to why, but she thought it be a bad time to interrupt to ask questions. She’d only just mastered the concept of bad timing, if only in theory. In practice, it was more of a toss-up. Without the relevant information at hand, and bearing in mind that she’d only met Ginger once two months earlier, she found her attention lagging. She started to turn to go, but remembered that Sarah Jane often got quite worried if Sky disappeared without warning. She’d had to ask Sky more than a few times to give her some kind of warning if she needed to wander a bit. They’d worked out a system by now to do this without attracting too much attention.

Sky stepped over to Sarah Jane and tugged on her sleeve. Sarah Jane looked down at her and returned the girl’s earnest smile, understanding what was being communicated. Sky then took this as permission to wander and left the eating area to window shop nearby where she knew Sarah Jane could keep an eye on her.

“I dunno,” Ginger said, uncomfortably. She and the rest of the group were completely oblivious to the silent communication that had gone on with Sarah Jane and Sky. “What do you mean worried?”

“I mean worried, just sick with it,” Alex said. “Especially the Doctor, he was going out of his mind.”

“What?” the Doctor was indignant. “No I wasn’t!”

“You were too, you moron, so shut it!” She turned back to Ginger. “You alright though? You don’t look well.”

“Just because I’m not wearing makeup-”

“It’s not that, you just look...pale.” Alex clarified, trying not to sound insulting.

The Doctor had noticed this too. “Not feeling sick again, are you?”

“Sick?” Alex latched onto the word. “What’d’ya mean sick?”

“Not _ sick _sick,” Ginger said, defensively. “We just noticed when we were off-world last time that I didn’t feel sick or headachey anymore like I always do. And yes, to answer your question, the headache came back as soon as I left the TARDIS that night. But it’s not a big deal, I can mostly ignore it. It’s sort of like that headache you get when you get too close to a lot of magnets.”

“What kind of headache is that?” Sarah Jane asked.

“You know,” Ginger sputtered. “Like tiny magnets are almost not a big deal but you get around a big one or a bunch of them and you get a screaming headache and sometimes pass out?”

They were all looking at her strangely. 

“Nobody does that, Ginger,” Alex said. 

“What? Come off it. Everyone…” But Ginger was noting their looks of confusion. “Nobody else does this?”

“It’s nothing I’ve ever heard of,” the Doctor said. “Earth has a magnetic field around it, Ginger. If magnets made humans sick, humans would never be well.”

“I…” Ginger started. She was flummoxed and disoriented. “Oh forget about it then.” She began gathering up her things.

“Where are you going?” the Doctor asked.

“Away,” she replied. “Good to see you, Alex. But I’ve got to be off.” She took off toward the exits.

Somehow this was the final straw for him. “Hang on!” He followed her out towards the exits.

Sarah Jane started to follow them but Alex put a hand on her arm. “Leave it. They’ve got to have it out. Otherwise nothing gets done.” 

Alex took out her phone and texted a brief message: “You’ve got to come here now. You won’t believe who we’ve just found at the shops.”

The Doctor caught up with Ginger before they could reach the exit. He reached out in an attempt to grab her arm but thought better of it. Instead he bounded forward to get between her and the door.

“Get out of my way!” she snapped. “It’s never a good idea to get between me and the door!”

“You can’t just _ run off _!” he fumed. “Not again!”

Ginger cried out in frustration and threw her hands in the air. “I can. I always have. And I’ll do it again! You think _ you _can stop me?”

“You’ve been missing for two weeks, Ginger!” the Doctor said. “Two weeks-”

“Exactly, I know! Two weeks, twelve hours, and twenty four minutes! That’s how long I’ve been _ trying _to stay away from you lot!”

“How can you _ possibly _know the time right down to the minutes?” 

“I don’t know! I just do!”

“You are _ completely _impossible!”

“You mean because I don’t make sense or because I’m stubborn?”

“Oh so you caught my double meaning?”

“You know what, I don’t know why you’re so upset over this,” she said, presenting this as logical fact. “I gave you advance warning. I don’t normally do that. It’s just weird that you’re so fixated on this. I go away.” She walked slowly around him until she had her back to the exit and he was forced to turn around to look at her. “It’s what I do. I go a little mental staying in one place too long.”

“I told you that you don’t have to-”

“Oh not this again! Get _ over _it! What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that I am _ furious _ with you!” the Doctor said. He gritted his teeth as if trying to bite back words. He wasn’t successful. “If you want to know honestly, you scared me! You scared all of us! And I’m so... _ so _relieved that you’re alright but that also makes me so angry because here you are just like nothing happened!”

“Nothing _ did _happen-”

“Can you just tell me what it is? For future reference?" There was desperation in his voice and he took a few steps toward her. "I keep stepping over some line with you and you keep pulling away. Tell me what it is, otherwise I can’t fix it!” He stopped walking and looked down as if realizing that he may be about to step over some invisible line into her personal space. He made the conscious effort not to do that.

She recognized this as well and they both assessed each other for a moment before she answered him. “It’s not a specific thing you did,” she said, softly. “It’s just...you.”

“Oh really? So it’s just me, I bother you?” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Yes! I’ve told you that!”

“So explain it to me! Why do I bother you?”

“Because I’m not myself when I’m around you!” she finally snapped. “Okay? That’s the reason. When it’s just us sometimes I stop knowing who I am and I thought I had a pretty firm handle on that.”

“Oh come on, really?” the Doctor fired back. “You’re not yourself? Please! There’s no such thing as a self, not really! If you try to hold onto some concept of yourself then you’re just going to keep holding yourself back! We’re all changing every second so there’s only who we are in the moment!”

“Well not me!” she insisted. “I don’t ever change! I’ve tried, but nothing ever sticks!”

“Well then that’s good, isn’t it? It’s good that you can finally learn something new about yourself-”

“I don’t want to learn anything new about myself! There shouldn’t _ be _anything new about myself! This whole thing, it...It scares the living hell out of me! Because if I don’t know who I am, then I don’t know what I might do or what I’m capable of doing! I have been one person all my life and you make me feel like I’m someone different and I forget what I’m supposed to be. When you’re around, I feel...I don’t know, I don’t have words for it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You? Don’t have words?”

“Shut up,” she said, defensively. “I’m just not supposed to be able to forget. You make me forget. It’s like being on stage except it’s all exposed.”

“Being on stage isn’t being exposed?”

“No, not as yourself. You keep trying to get something real out of me and that scares the hell out of me. So I pull away before whatever this new thing is hurts anyone.”

“But what if it’s something better?”

“That’s almost worse.”

“You’re scared of being better?”

“Isn’t everyone? Isn’t it easier just to keep running from the horrible things you’ve done than actually face any new facet of who you are? And anyway, nobody gets better. That’s just the lie before the relapse.”

“Don’t you think you deserve something more than just being miserable?” He suspected he wouldn’t like her answer.

“Honestly? No I don’t. I’m getting my punishment. You’re just...confusing. So confusing. I don’t know what you could possibly want from me.”

“I don’t want anything from you-”

She raised her eyebrows. “No? Because I saw the same thing you did under that willow tree. And something was definitely going on up on that roof on Halloween.”

“Is that what scares you so much?”

“I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea of what this is. I don’t want any of you getting attached. As if you could.”

“I’m not attached,” he scoffed. “Though I don’t think it’s unreasonable to think someone could get attached.” He sighed. “I haven’t been getting any ideas. Haven’t I been clear? I’m not...looking for anything like that from you. Or from anyone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah you’ve said. Got your heart all broken up over Rose. Whatever.”

This made him angry but he tried to reign it in. “It’s not just that,” he said. “I couldn’t ever fall in love again, not that way. And certainly not for a human.”

“But wasn’t Rose human?”

“That’s the point. It’s too much. Your life spans are too short. I can’t keep watching you all die. So rest assured, it’s not just that I’m not remotely interested in you that way. It’s also that I couldn’t because you’re human. I’ve learned my lesson. No more humans.”

Then a voice spoke from behind Ginger.

“You two _ do _realize you’re having this extremely dramatic fight in the middle of a mall, don’t you? Just...right there in front of the world?”

Ginger whipped around and smiled. “Jack? What are you doing here?”

The Doctor was annoyed to see how happy she seemed to see Jack.

“Alex texted me,” Jack said. “I wasn’t far. Since I was speeding.” He flashed a characteristic smile.

“Why’d she text you?” she prodded, nonplussed.

“Because she knew I was worried about you,” Jack said. “We all have been.” He was slightly perturbed by her lack of comprehension. “I wanted to put out a search party, but the Doctor said that would be an invasion of your privacy and we should leave you alone.”

Ginger glanced at the Doctor. “He said that?”

“You want to talk about people not acting like themselves?” the Doctor said, wryly. “Start with me. Just the thought of you in my head makes me act like a completely different person…” He realized his choice of words was likely to make her uncomfortable. “I was trying to respect your wishes.” He took a deep breath. “Honestly, it was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do recently.” He suddenly remembered Jack. “Hold on, if Alex just texted you, how did you get here so fast?”

Jack realized his error. “Speeding. Like I said. That’s what I said, right?”

The Doctor took Jack’s arm and examined his wrist. “Don’t tell me you fixed this old thing? I only let you keep it as a courtesy, I said no more time hopping!”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the boss of me, are you boss?” Jack teased.

“Alright, give it here,” the Doctor said. “I’m confiscating your vortex manipulator officially!”

“Oi!” Ginger said, crossing her arms. She was grateful for the change of topic. “What gives you the right to be confiscating anything, fascist? Leave him alone!”

Alex and Sarah Jane rushed from the food court to join them.

“Well that’s that settled then,” Alex said wryly. “Everything back to normal.”

Sarah Jane was a bit surprised by this. “I think it’s a bit more difficult than that, Alex. Maybe we should leave the Doctor and Ginger to finish their discussion privately-”

Ginger was a bit embarrassed now that she realized they’d been able to hear the whole thing. “No!” she exclaimed. “We’re done. We’re good. Nothing to talk about-”

“They do this once a day,” Alex explained. “You’ve gotta just let them get it out of their system, y'know? Then it’s fine. Good we got it out of the way early on this time.” 

At that moment, the sound of a group of girls giggling wafted from in front of a nearby shoe store. Ginger recognized that kind of laughter. It was derisive. Mocking. It was a sound she knew too well. She turned her head and spotted Sky standing in front of a nearby shoe shop. The laughter was coming from a group of teenagers who were talking to her.

“Oh no,” Alex whispered, observing the situation as well. “You lot stay here,” she commanded the adults. “If they see you, you’ll make it worse.” She turned and dashed to Sky’s side.

“Well that’s worrying,” Sarah Jane said, already not liking this.

Sky Smith was standing up near the cash registers and she wasn’t alone. A small group of teenagers was standing before her.

Alex didn't want to make a scene but she wasn't confident she could avoid it. "Sky. C'mon, mate. Let's go get some chips."

"Can my friends come?" Sky asked ebulliently.

Alex looked at the three as she said firmly, "I told you sweetie, these are not your friends."

Sky looked at Alex, then at the trio. She didn't understand why they didn't get along. It sincerely baffled and upset her, but she still smiled.

“Right, you lot,” Alex said, crossing her arms and standing between Sky and the group as if playing the attack dog. “How many times do I have to tell you to shove off?”

“Alex, it’s fine,” Sky said. “They were just being nice.”

“Oh were they?” Alex sounded doubtful. “What’chu want, then?”

“We were just saying hi,” Britta, the ringleader said lazily. “Aren’t we allowed to say hi?”

“No, not to her,” Alex said. 

“Oh but she’s so much fun,” Britta's statement was oozing with sarcasm. She took Sky's hand to reinforce her condescension. “Always a good time with Sky, isn’t it? She’ll do anything for you, no questions asked.”

“See!” Sky said, brightly. “I’m fun!” She evidently didn’t understand the girl was speaking facetiously. Even when her reply elicited callous laughter from the trio, her conviviality seemed unfazed.

Their laughter only grew. It was as if their malice rolled off them like smoke. So far they heeded Alex's warning, but now Ginger was was struck by a particularly bad feeling. She couldn't make out the exact words but the caustic timbre of the girl's voice carried and was uncomfortably familiar. Her natural instinct was to come to Sky’s defense, but she was reticent to get involved. She turned to go while the others had their attention occupied.

“See, she’s funny too!” the lone boy in the group said. “Always good for a laugh. I always say if you’re feeling bored, you can always have a bit of fun laughing at the retard.”

"Iain!" Britta gave the teen an overdramatic scoff and a perfunctory shove. He maintained his smirk. The other girl's face flushed; she was clearly taken aback by the pejorative but otherwise did not react. 

Sky’s smiled ebbed as she slowly came to the realization that she was being ridiculed. Ginger, on the other hand, was now fully cognizant of was happening. She whipped around so fast that it made the speed of light seem slow. 

“What did you just call her?” she demanded, marching over to them with a fury that few had ever seen.

The group of teens looked up at her.

“This is none of your business, lady,” Britta said. “Move along.”

“Ginger-” Alex warned her. The encounter was drawing unwanted attention.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Ginger demanded. “What the _ fuck _did you just call Sky?”

“We called her a retard,” the boy said with a roll of his eyes. “Are you hard of hearing, mate?”

“Why’d you do that?” Ginger replied. “And don’t call me mate in that condescending way or I’ll string you up.”

He shrugged, evidently unimpressed. “Just stating facts, _ Ma'am _.”

Ginger glowered at him. "_ Ohh ho, _ definitely not a Ma'am," she seethed. “Facts, is it? Just facts?”

The boy suddenly took the time to look at Ginger properly. He was taken aback by how fierce she looked but tried to maintain his stoicism. “Look, it’s just a word, innit? Don’t mean nothing." He smiled smugly to the others, bluffing resolve. "Sticks and stones, and all that.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ginger said incredulously. “Words don’t mean anything? Then why would we say them? Words are everything. You can topple governments with a word if you just know the right one to say. Words shape reality more than anything else I’ve ever encountered. Talk to me about sticks and stones? I’ve been beaten with both. The scars that stay with you are the ones you get from words. Because words can carve you up and change your reality. You can never get back the world as you saw it before you heard them.”

There was a pregnant pause during which Sky, who had been trying to hide how overwhelmed she was, let out a stifled choke. She knew Ginger and Alex were trying to protect her but she couldn't follow why it made them angry. 

“Jeez, lady, what’s your problem?” the boy finally said, uncomfortably. Ginger inhaled slowly. In this case, words literally meant nothing; her message went over their heads. This was another feeling she knew well. No matter what she said or how she said it, she couldn’t seem to make people want to understand.

“My problem is that you just called Sky Smith a…” She couldn’t even bring herself to say the word. 

“A retard.” He said this slowly, mockingly. “I was just joking around. Using the word like they do in music, right? Little bit slow. Reclaiming it or whatever.”

“You weren’t,” she spat. “And it’s not your word to reclaim.”

Sarah Jane stepped in then. “I think you children better get a move on,” she said.

“Whatever,” Britta said. “Anything to get away from this nutter.”

They moved on and Ginger glowered after them.

“Ginger,” Alex said cautiously. “That was a bit intense-”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. 

Sarah Jane came to Sky’s side. “Sky, dear, are you alright? Do you want to go home?”

Sky shook her head. “Not yet. I still...I still want to go to the makeup shop...I...I heard they were doing samples...” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh dear,” Sarah Jane took her in her arms and let her cry. “I’m so sorry they said that to you. I’m actually furious.” She looked at Alex. “You know these kids?”

Alex nodded. “Britta, Iain and Anu. They go to school with us. They’re sort of mean to everyone. But Sky…” Alex sighed. “She doesn’t always get that they’re being mean. She doesn’t really understand teasing or sarcasm yet. I try most of the time to not let her know they’re being mean because as long as she doesn’t know she doesn’t get hurt.” 

“Is that so?” Ginger said, dryly. “You don’t think it would be better to explain it so she won’t get herself into trouble? Just because you don’t know you’re a victim doesn’t mean you aren't one.”

The Doctor suddenly turned his attention back to Ginger. “That was an intense reaction,” he said. 

She shrugged. “I don’t like that word.”

“Really?” the Doctor asked, zeroing in on that comment. “I was under the impression that you like all words.”

She shook her head. “Not all of them. Some are off limits. That one is...probably my least favorite.” She crossed her arms and refused to look at any of them. “And of course that’s my fault too.”

Sarah Jane was surprised. “Why would that be your fault?”

“Because we created the root word,” Ginger said, looking from Alex to Jack to the Doctor. “We were all there. The very weapon that’s been used against...Well, we created it.” 

“You’re not responsible for the irresponsible use of Latin, Ginger,” Jack said.

“Whatever,” she said.

The Doctor decided to disregard Ginger for now as Sky disentangled herself from her mother. He walked over to Sky. “Hey,” he said, gently. “You feeling better?”

“I dunno,” she admitted. 

He put his arm around her in a filial display of affection. “What can we do to help?” he asked, sliding in the "we" like a gently loaded bullet.

“I just want to finish my shopping and go home,” Sky sniffled.

The Doctor nodded. "Been a long day for you," he acknowledged then he tilted his head down toward hers. “Would you like an ice cream?” He offered, clandestinely taking aim. 

She was startled by this statement, but couldn’t help but be a bit excited by the idea. “Yeah, I’d like an ice cream.”

“Ginger and I will get you one!” he said, picking up the pace. _ Bang! _

Ginger looked up sharply. “Hang on-”

“I can finish up your shopping for you, if you want,” Alex said. “So you don’t have to.”

Sky nodded. “Thanks. I just wanted to get those free makeup samples!.” She breathed a sigh of relief. Free samples plus ice cream was apparently the formula required to smile again, if only a little. 

“I don’t...actually know which ones you like,” admitted Alex. “I’m not actually good with this sort of stuff.”

“The ones the model is wearing on the cover of the catalogue," Sky replied, as if that cleared it up. "Mum knows,” said Sky.

Sarah Jane appeared anxious at the thought of leaving Sky. “I’d really rather stay with you-”

“It’ll help us leave faster,” Sky said softly. “Please?”

“We’ll take good care of her,” the Doctor assured her. “We’ll just get her an ice cream. Meet us back in the food court when you’re done? Oh! I know! You can take Jack with you! He’s good at that sort of thing too, I’m sure.”

“What?” Ginger protested. “Why does Jack have to go?”

“Because this way is better,” said the Doctor with a flourish., He was evidently set on this. “Trust me?” She gave him an incredulous look. “Fair enough, but we’re still doing it this way!”

Sarah Jane was still reluctant. “Are you sure-”

Sky nodded. “Let’s hurry, please.”

“Come on, Sky,” the Doctor said. “With me, now. Let’s get you an ice cream.” He could see Ginger’s movement from the corner of his eye. “Oh-ho, don’t think you can slip away that easily. You’re with me too, Ginger.”

She crossed her arms. “You can’t tell me what to do,” she fumed.

“I don’t have any money,” he pointed out. “You’re buying the ice cream. Are you really going to deny Sky ice cream after the day she’s having?”

Ginger resented the audacious guilt trip, but groaned and gave in spite of herself. “Fine!” She threw her hands in the air. “Let’s get this over with!”

The Doctor, Ginger, and Sky made their way to a small booth selling soft serve ice cream.

“See!” the Doctor said to Sky, cheerfully. “Ice cream! You can’t be sad when there’s ice cream!”

“A thousand heartbroken girls in romcoms would beg to differ,” Ginger said, under her breath.

Sky let out a laugh. She opened her mouth to explain to him that it wasn't nearly that simple. She thought better of it; he could retract his offer. _ Oh, and it may be impolite _, she pondered. She decided to trust Ginger to point it out if necessary. She was very skilled at correcting people, Sky concluded. 

“This is what I used to like to do at your age when something like that would happen to me,” the Doctor said to Sky, ignoring Ginger altogether. “Granted, we didn’t really have anything like ice cream on Gallifrey, but it was the same basic principle. Find something sweet but not filling. Get your spirits back up.” 

“Things like this used to happen to you?” Sky asked.

“All the time,” he said. “Children can be cruel." He remembered something Sarah Jane said back at the clinic. "Especially the _ normal _ ones," he added on a droll and flung his head back to complete the hyperbole. "Always _ so _ jealous of people far more interesting." He turned to face her. "It’s not your fault that this happened to you.” He smiled at her. “Go on now. Go pick a flavor. Ginger, give her some money.” 

Ginger wanted to be frustrated with him but she couldn’t allow herself to seem annoyed in front of Sky. She’d only think it was her fault she was annoyed. Ginger forced an awkward smile and reached in her pocket. Sky smiled as she received the cash and dashed off to make a selection.

“She’s autistic,” said Ginger, not taking her eyes off of the teenager. “Isn’t she? And Luke is too?”

“Interesting,” the Doctor said, also not looking at her.

“What is?”

“That wasn’t an accusation, it was an observation,” the Doctor said. “Very casual.”

“But I’m not wrong?”

“You’re not. _ Whell _, not technically. By today's diagnostic standards, they would be lumped in. In the future -not too far either- the standards will be revised. They do away with culture-specific criteria and dimensions are added that will make today's concept of an autism spectrum seem, well, flat. Like a road map. People like Luke and Sky will practically have their own sub-category. For now, they’re a bit hard to explain. When did you figure it out?”

“At the fair,” she admitted. “I had a few moments where I thought...but then I’d get distracted again.”

“And again, you say it like an observation,” he noted. “Not unkind, but also not taking pity or saying it like it’s a bad thing like most people in this era would do. What gave it away?”

She shrugged. “Little things. Sky was more obvious than Luke - he acts as if he understands he’s supposed to do certain things even if he doesn’t understand why. So he blends better. There are just little giveaways, you know? It’s like they know all their lines but don’t know their cues.” 

“Yeah, like other people we know.”

She glared at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Didn’t mean anything,” he said, putting his hands in the air in a gesture of peace. “Just...You clocked that so easily. Isn’t there anyone else that we know who might...be on the spectrum?”

Her expression was unreadable and he was half convinced she was going to shout at him.

“No,” she said, slowly. “I don’t think so.”

“Really?” he was surprised by this answer.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, really. What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” he said, with a vague air of disappointment. “It was nothing.”

Ginger suddenly realized that this was it. This was later. She couldn’t think when she’d have another opportunity to ask, so decided to go for it. “So you don’t like museums, huh? Because of the ethics of forcibly removing an artifact from an indigenous culture?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said.

She nodded. “Uh huh. So what’s the real reason? I don’t think you’re lying, I just suspect you’re mostly saying that because it’s what I would say. So I’m curious to know the real reason.”

He was struck again by how easy she found it to read him sometimes but other times she didn’t. “They make me sad,” he admitted. “I usually see history while it’s alive and breathing. Museums feel like a graveyard.” Then he realized what her natural response to that would be and they both spoke at once.

“I actually quite like graveyards,” she said.

“I know, I know, you like graveyards,” he said. “You know, you are _ so _predictable sometimes.”

She couldn’t help but smile at him this time. This felt right. Things rarely felt that way for her, so the feeling startled her.

Sky returned at that moment with a cookies and cream cone. “Can I ask a question?” she asked.

“Of course,” said the Doctor.

“What they called me,” Sky said slowly. “That word that made Ginger so angry...What did it mean?”

“You’ve never heard it before?” Ginger was surprised. The word had been used often when she was even younger than Sky.

“I have. Iain has said it before. I thought I knew what it meant. Sometimes I pretend to know what things mean. Things that normal teenagers know." Sky stopped herself, realizing she was about to give away the secret that she never had a childhood. Would Ginger ever be allowed to know? She made a note to ask Sarah Jane the next time they were alone. "I guess I don't understand it,” she added.

But Ginger understood. “Yeah. I’m still playing catchup too. Didn’t really have a childhood either.”

“You didn’t?” Sky took this literally.

“I think she means metaphorically, Sky,” the Doctor said gently.

“Oh.” Sky had to admit that she was a little disappointed.

“Gotta admit, though,” Ginger said, breezing past this touchy subject in a familiar way that reminded Sky of the Doctor. “Bit surprised you didn’t at least look up the word. I was _ obsessed _with words when I was your age.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “Was?”

“But what does it mean?” Sky asked. “You never said.”

“I don’t think we have to get into that now-” the Doctor said.

“It’s a mean word,” Ginger said. “It’s used on people like...Well, it’s used on people. They’re trying to say that something is wrong with the way your mind works and there is nothing wrong with it. It just works differently.”

"I just want to be normal."

"No you don't." Ginger and the Doctor replied in unison. The Doctor would've followed up on his comment but decided to let Ginger have the floor, so to speak.

"'Normal' is a myth, and not one of the fun ones. This isn’t one of those stories people tell themselves to make sense of the world around them by adding dragons or sirens or-”

“Aliens?” the Doctor added.

She nodded, appreciating the addition. “Yeah, aliens. Normal isn’t one of those myths. This one hurts people. It’s a story the powerful tell so they have a reason to hurt people who step out of line. I’m automatically suspicious of anyone who works too hard to seem normal. That just means they’ve got more to hide than the rest of us.”

“Why would people do that? Why would anyone want to hurt someone on purpose?” Sky asked, her voice catching in her throat.

“Because they want you to feel bad about not following stupid rules they came up with,” Ginger said, bitterly. “Just because they created rules that don’t make sense doesn’t mean we need to follow them.”

Sky’s eyes widened, tears clinging at their sides. “I don’t want to break any rules!”

“What? Of course you do! That’s the whole point, isn’t it? The rules are stupid and don’t make sense. You’re not obligated to exist inside of them.” 

“No," Sky shook her head. "No," she repeated. Rules were fundamental. They were the first concept she had learned, even before that of family. She kept her eyes fixed her feet as if grounding herself from the shock of Ginger's assertion.

“Look I’m not saying that every rule is a bad one, just…” Ginger didn’t know how to explain this. “People are gonna keep telling you that you’re breaking rules by accident and expect you to change. If they can’t explain why a rule is the way it is, then there’s no point in following it. They should be able to give a good reason. Because the truth is that people like…Well, you’re gonna get in trouble sometimes but that just teaches you what lines are worth crossing.”

Sky's tension began to dissipate. She grasped the broad strokes of Ginger's elaboration. The need for an explanation for the way a thing is and the importance of giving 'a good reason' were familiar paradigms. She reestablished eye contact. "Could you give me an example?"

“I think that’s enough of that for now,” the Doctor declared. “Where are the others? Shouldn’t they be done by now?”

“There was a line,” Sky shrugged. “Free sample day.”

“We should go meet them then,” said Ginger. “I don’t really like waiting around.”

“Neither do I,” the Doctor agreed.

…

There was indeed quite a line at the cosmetics store, though it seemed to finally be getting shorter. They found Sarah Jane, Alex, and Jack. Ginger immediately noticed that Alex had pulled her hood up, which was a move that Ginger would say is ill-advised in a high-end establishment. 

“You know they’re gonna think you’re shoplifting,” Ginger said, sneaking up behind her.

Alex jumped. “How long have you been there?”

“No time at all,” she said. “But seriously, why’d’ya have your hood up? Makes rich people think you look shiftier.”

Jack leaned towards Ginger to stage whisper dramatically. “She’s hiding from Kira.”

Alex punched him on the arm. “No I’m _ not! _”

“Kira’s here?” the Doctor asked, surprised.

“Oh! Oh I get it!” Sky jumped up and down excitedly. “Kira works here! I remember her telling me! And Alex knew that too so _ that’s _why she was so keen on coming to the shops today!”

“I _ thought _it was odd that you suggested the shops,” Sarah Jane admitted. “You usually hate shopping.”

“No!” Alex huffed. “Keep your voices down!”

Kira, who had been nearby restocking a shelf, looked up when she heard the familiar voices. “Alex?” she said as her eyes fell on her.

“Oh no,” Alex breathed, pulling her hood tighter around her face. 

Kira’s face split into a wide grin as she realized that it was, in fact, Alex. She came closer to them. “Alex, it is you! And Sky! And, wow, it’s just everyone we know, isn’t it?” She glanced around at the adults. “What brings you here?”

Alex choked out a word that might have been: “Errands.”

Kira nodded. “Sure. It’s good to see you.”

“Can I just say,” Ginger cut in, realizing this was a private moment but being unable to stop herself. “I always liked the name of this store. Cosmetic Justice. Funny.”

“Well we make all our cosmetics fair trade and non animal tested and donate part of our proceeds to specific charities aimed at empowering girls in the third world,” Kira said, rattling off what sounded more like a corporate script than anything she really believed. Then she broke character. “It’s overpriced and overhyped, but it pays the bills.”

“Yeah I knew I liked you.” Ginger was looking around. There were some posters on the wall that were being torn down. “What’s with the remodeling?”

Kira glanced at the pictures, which depicted a pretty red-haired woman. “Oh that? She’s been our spokes-model since the store opened a few years ago, but she stopped modeling pretty soon after. We just needed a change. A new face.”

“Kinda sad for her though, isn’t it?” Ginger asked. “She just gets to be forgotten?”

Kira shrugged. “It happens. The world moves on.”

“Does anyone even know her name?”

“I think it’s...Amy? Amy...something?”

“Amy Something,” Ginger said. “Like a name from a fairytale.”

“We actually can’t stay,” Alex said, anxiously. “I’m just here to get samples for Sky then we’re going home. Rough day, you know?”

Kira’s smile faltered for the briefest second. “Hey Trish?” she called over her shoulder. “I’m going on break.”

A blonde woman at the counter looked up. “What, now? In the middle of rush?”

“Yes, now, Trish,” Kira called back. “Alex, can we go talk?”

“I’m not sure that we have time,” Alex began. “Sky really wants to get home.”

“Woah, don’t hang this on me!” Sky said, actually sort of enjoying this. “I’ve watched you flutter about for the last two months, so you go have your chat. It’s been a long time coming. I’ll stay here and get my samples. You meet us back in the food court.”

Alex was helpless against this logic so she nodded and followed Kira.

“You can’t take customers to the breakroom!” said Trish.

“So fire me!” Kira shot back.

Alex and Kira reached the breakroom and shut the door, away from prying eyes. 

“So what’s this-” Alex began, nervously.

“Do you like me?” Kira asked. 

Alex didn’t know how to answer this - it felt like a trap. “Y-yeah, I suppose.”

“You suppose or you do? Because sometimes I get the feeling that you like me and we’re getting somewhere, but then you pull away. You won’t even come hang out when I ask, you always have an excuse.”

“I’m-”

“Busy, I know,” Kira didn’t raise her voice. “But I just kind of want to see you, and you’re never around. You don’t even give me an alternative time or place to meet, you just cancel. I’m so confused. You’re there one minute, then the next you’re not.”

“I’m sorry,” she admitted. “I just get...overwhelmed, I guess is the word? I don’t...know how to do any of this. I’m not...sure exactly what you want from me.”

“I thought I was clear about that when I kissed you,” Kira said. “And all the times I’ve tried to ask you out but you just didn’t get it.”

Alex was shocked. “You were trying to ask me out?”

“See?” Kira shook her head and laughed. “You just didn’t get it. I’m not gonna say you’re thick, because maybe it’s hard to understand tone through text...but that’s why I’ve kept trying to ask to see you in person. Thought it would be less ambiguous then.”

Alex was still trying to sort this out in her head. “So you…?”

“Would like to go on a date with you, yeah,” said Kira. “If that’s cool. I’ve been afraid I’ve been pushing too much or trying too hard, but if I don’t get this out now I’m afraid I never will.” Alex still didn’t speak so she got a bit nervous. “So...what do you say?”

Alex blinked and came back to herself. “Yeah. Yeah! I mean...yeah. Cool. When?”

Kira smiled, evidently relieved. “You text me the details. Pick the time and place. That way it’s harder for you to back out.”

…

Ginger felt as if the store was a bit crowded and excused herself for some air. She, unlike the others, didn’t think that whatever was going on with Alex and Kira was her business.

A workman was tearing down one final poster on the outside of the shop. Ginger stopped to watch.

“What are you doing?” asked Jack, sidling up to her.

“Just watching the progression of time,” she said. “Erasing this girl like she was never here. They’re just going to replace her.”

“That happens sometimes,” Sarah Jane said, having overheard the last bit of this as she came outside as well. “The world moves on. You get replaced with a younger model.” She realized this was a bit on the nose. 

“I just wonder if people who are this pretty are happy,” Ginger said.

“We do alright for ourselves,” said Jack.

“But is ‘alright’ happy? I can’t imagine you could be anything other than paranoid growing up knowing that you’re pretty. When you grow up ugly at least you know where you stand. But when you’re pretty how do you know people like you because of who you are? How do you know people don’t just like you because you’re pretty? How do you know people are actually listening to you or if they’re just agreeing with you?”

“Are you alright, dear?” Sarah Jane asked.

Ginger sighed. “I dunno. I feel like I’m growing into being somewhat conventionally attractive and I don’t want that. Bad things happen to pretty girls. Being ugly has always kept me safe.”

“Did it?” Jack asked. “I’m not at all certain that you’ve ever felt safe regardless.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said. She continued looking at the poster. “I just hope that model was happy. Really happy, not just being told to be happy for the camera. I imagine it must be lonely being a recognizable face but having nobody know your name.”

“You never let anybody know your name,” Jack countered.

“Because Ginger is the closest thing to a name that I have,” Ginger said, cryptically.

“You know,” Jack said, peering up at the poster. “She sort of looks like you.”

Ginger rolled her eyes. “Don’t say that. She’s way hotter.”

“Are we all ready to go?” Sky asked brightly, exiting the store with the Doctor and a red-faced Alex.

“What happened?” Sarah Jane asked.

“Alex got a date!” the Doctor teased.

“Well it’s about bloody time you stopped fluttering about!” Sarah Jane grinned. “We should celebrate!”

“I’m hungry,” said Sky. “Let’s get food.”

“I thought you wanted to go home?” Sarah Jane asked. 

“I did,” she said. “But I’m better now. It all worked out.”

“I’d better go,” said Ginger.

“What?” Sky said. “No! Stay! Please? Just for food?”

“I’ve already eaten,” she admitted.

“Well just get something small, then,” Sky insisted.

Ginger hesitated, but didn’t know how to say no without seeming mean. Normally setting a boundary wouldn’t bother her, but she found herself not wanting to hurt Sky’s feelings.

“Alright,” Ginger agreed. “You know, I could go for chips.”

...

Everyone briefly reconvened in the food court. They spied an empty rectangular table that appeared it would reasonably seat six and the Doctor offered to hold it while the other waited in their respective queues.

Jack was back first. "I'll forgo making a 'fast food' joke so you can go find your 'food-on-a-stick,'" Jack offered, adding "which is a category of jokes in of itself."

The Doctor sucked air in through his teeth. "Yeaaah. Problem is…" He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at his feet. "I don't have any money." He looked up at Jack and grinned. 

"Of course you don't!" Jack withdrew a note from his pocket and slapped it into the Doctor's outstretched hand.

"Thank you!" The Doctor replied like a child receiving his allowance.

...

Sarah Jane and the girls occupied one side of the table with Jack taking the end of the bench across from Sarah Jane. Ginger joined Jack, splitting the difference in bench space. Everyone was famished after the drama of the day. Ginger forwent a full meal, opting only for chips paired with milkshake.

"Finally!" The Doctor exclaimed with his trademark verve, returning with a milkshake in one hand and an aluminium bouquet in another. He had a joke all lined up regarding the contents of the foil, but his mood melted when he spied his options for a seat. This was his thought process: 

Asking Ginger to scoot over in either direction would be, well, asking Ginger to do something. The general risk one ran in asking Ginger for _ anything _ was not unlike that of building a house of cards; choose carefully and don't push your luck. And he wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t all pushing his luck in the first place. The current climate between them felt like one of a fragile truce, which upon examination seemed almost to be their normal state of being. On the other hand the risk factor was the psychological consideration of asking Ginger to be stuck in the middle. Early on in their encounters, the Doctor became accustomed to evaluating every scene in order to mollify Ginger's unspoken requisite for an easy escape. It turned out that lurking like an idiot while facially emoting his thought process was a solution itself.

Ginger was conscious of all this as well, but was more nervous with him standing behind her. “Well are you gonna sit or what? Don’t hover, it’s creepy.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t,” she said, although she wasn’t.

He carefully took a seat next to her, trying his hardest not to encroach on her personal space in the slightest.

"Found your food on a stick, Doctor?" Sarah Jane asked rhetorically.

"So many possibilities…" Jack started, censoring the 'stick' euphemisms rolling through his mind. 

"Kebabs!" The Doctor pulled the kebabs out of the foil with the goofball flair of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. "Too bad no corn dogs. I love a corn dog," he directed across the table to the girls, who were likely the only ones unfamiliar with the deep-fried fare. Sky rewarded him with a giggle and puzzled look. Alex stared past him, swirling the same chip around in ketchup until her plate was painted with it. She watched the trio of bullies in the distance. They were on their way to the far exit looking as arrogant as ever. 

Ginger made a face. "Corn dogs are gross."

"_ Someday, _ " the Doctor continued, ignoring her. "We'll have to take a trip to summer in Midwest America for a classic County Fair." Although he spoke to everyone he kept his gaze on Alex. "Livestock, _ roller _ coasters, _ and _ …" As his enthusiasm escalated, so did the volume and timbre of his voice. "... _ every _ type of food you can think of, _ deep-fried _ ! And _ on a stick _!"

Alex smiled at the Doctor. "Do you _ ever _ act like a normal person?" She kidded him.

"Never. _ Whell, _ occasionally. _ But _ only in desperate circumstances.” He topped off his reply with a goofy grin.

Sky stared at a lone ketchup packet in front of Ginger. If she took it without asking, that could be considered 'reaching,' which she knew was categorized as impolite. But Ginger had already finished her chips. 

"Kid, you can stop eyeing the ketchup and just take it,” Ginger said. “I hate ketchup so it’s all yours.”

Sky took this as permission.

Ginger spotted the group of bullies as well. “You don’t still think they’re your friends, do you, Sky?”

Sky looked up and was hurt by the reintroduction of the topic. “No. Guess not.”

"They're popular. And mean." Alex replied coolly. "We don’t need them.” She looked around the table. “We have better friends.” She realized Sky might not immediately get this statement. “I mean everyone at this table, Sky.”

The Doctor turned his hand up and she gladly took it. Initially he smiled, then, like a switch, he tugged his hand away. "Uh-oh. Holding your fake- kid's hand in public. Sorry. Not 'normal.'" He teased.

She recaptured his hand like a cat going after a ball of string. "I take it back!" She exclaimed hyperbolically. "Please, don't _ ever _ act 'normal'," she begged gleefully.

"Maybe we shouldn't be seen with her at all!" Jack said theatrically to Sarah Jane, joining the levity.

Sky wanted to join in the fun, too. "Wanna chip, Doctor?" Sky didn't wait for an answer. She took a chip, dipped it in ketchup, and flung it toward him grazing the Doctor's ear, leaving ketchup on his shoulder. 

"'Normal' teenagers do that! At school!" Sky smiled as she explained proudly, without remorse (or clue why she should have any.)

The Doctor didn't require any reasoning from her, or any explanation for that matter. He led the group in laughter.

Ginger pretended to gag. She found this scene reminiscent of a formulaic, hackneyed TV programme. She could practically hear the uniform "aww" of a live audience. She rolled her eyes; this _ was _ feeling kind of 'normal.' "Okay, gang. Can't wait to tune in to the next episode!" She mocked.

"That better be a promise," Alex quickly replied. And she wasn't joking. 

“You know,” Sarah Jane said. “I think this is way overdue. I’ve been trying to get Alex and the Doctor to ask you round for dinner for ages now, but they always make some excuse that I’m not satisfied with. So we’ll have you round, let’s say...Not this coming Monday, but the Monday after?”

“Why then?” Sky asked. “Why not a weekend?”

“Because tomorrow is too soon to plan and we’re busy next weekend,” Sarah Jane reminded her. “Besides, the Doctor wouldn’t come on a Sunday. He thinks they’re boring. So Monday?”

“I don’t know,” Ginger said, doubtfully. “I might be busy-”

“Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily,” Sarah Jane said. “I insist. Have a nice home-cooked meal. I don’t want to be presumptuous, but when’s the last time you had one of those?”

“I can pick you up,” the Doctor tried. “Just give me an address-”

Ginger picked up on this instantly. “Oh no you don’t, detective,” she shot back. “Not getting it out of me that easy.”

“Here,” Sarah Jane said, reaching into her bag for her pen and paper. She scribbled something down and handed it to Ginger. “My address and phone number. Turn up or don’t, that’s your choice. We normally eat around six.”

Ginger looked down at the sheet of paper. “I’ll think about it,” she said.

"Well we know one thing," Alex teased. "We shouldn't make the Doctor go to a museum again. He'll just be a stick-in-the-mud."

"Well you wouldn't let me go to the exhibits I wanted to go to," he said, playfully.

"Where did you want to go?" Jack asked.

"Mesopotamia," he replied.

"I don't blame them," said Jack. "Sounds boring."

"Aw come on," the Doctor said. "That's what I want. I know a neat excavation." Ginger looked up sharply at this reference. "Ginger? Do you have an opinion?"

"Well I'm no student of ancient culture," she completed the reference, trying unsuccessfully not to grin. "Before I talk I should read a book. But there's one thing that I do know. There's a lot of ruins in Mesopotamia."

They both tried hard not to laugh and looked away from each other, mirroring each other's body language intentionally by resting an elbow on the table and running their fingers through their hair.

This was what had been missing.


	19. Don't Let Me Get Me

When Alex arrived home from school on the 23rd of November, Jack was already there.

“Hey,” she said, putting her school bag on the table. “You’re early? Wasn’t expecting you until later.”

He smiled at her, but the smile wasn’t as bright as his usual grin. “I just thought we should have a talk about something. Before everyone gets here.”

“Uh-oh,” she said, bracing herself for bad news. “That doesn’t sound good.” She tried to joke. “This isn’t about the birds and the bees, is it? Because we’ve been through that already…”

“No it isn’t,” he said, though he was amused by the deflection. “Sit down?”

She hesitated. “Alright.” She sat down across from him at the kitchen table.

“I got a call from Gwen today,” he started.

“Is she alright?” Alex asked, alarmed. Then she got it. “Oh. Right. Of course she is. You’re just...When do you leave?”

He was startled by how quickly she’d gotten this, but supposed that they’d been through this many times by now. She knew the routine. 

“Tomorrow,” he said. “There’s a situation in Cardiff. They need me.”

“Still, at least it’s not America this time,” she said, far too casually. “You can still pop back round if you need to. Surprised you stayed around this long this time.”

He was concerned about how well she was taking it this time. “Are you alright? I don’t have to go-”

“Of course you do,” she said, trying to seem grown up about the whole thing. “You’re very important. Gotta save the world. There’s no chance that this time you could...take me with you? On the mission, I mean?”

He shook his head. “No, Podling. Still too dangerous. You need to be in school.”

This stung the way it always did, but she tried not to show it. “Well we’ll have a nice dinner tonight, then. I know! We can think of it like American Thanksgiving! That’ll be a laugh, won’t it?”

He was mystified by this response. “Why would we think of it like that? Do you even know what Thanksgiving is?”

“Something to do with turkey, right? Settlers and family and food?”

“That and colonialism and genocide,” he acknowledged. “But if you want to try to have a Thanksgiving here, I won’t stop you. It’ll be funny seeing how Ginger reacts to it. I’m sure she’ll have all _ sorts _of opinions.”

…

Ginger had spent the past week debating whether or not to show up for this thing. She didn’t do dinners or parents or socializing. It all seemed very uncomfortable. But her mind kept coming back to the fact that it was free food that she’d be turning down. Or, at least, that’s what she told herself she’d be missing out on. 

She stepped out of the cab onto Bannerman Road at about 5:30 and looked up at the house. Somehow she’d never imagined Alex could live somewhere so seemingly ordinary. 

She began walking up to the house. She’d almost made it there when the TARDIS materialized nearby. She stopped and watched as the Doctor hopped out.

“You came!” he said, evidently both surprised and relieved. “Almost didn’t think you would!”

“Almost didn’t think I would either,” she admitted. “But it’s free food. Can’t turn that down.”

He walked up to her. “And that’s what you’re wearing?” he asked, not at all as surprised as he felt he ought to be.

She crossed her arms. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, hastily. “Thought you might get dressed up for a dinner invitation.”

“This is me dressed up,” she replied. “I put on a coat.” And she had indeed. She was dressed in a beat-up black leather trench coat under which nothing could be seen but her usual black leather boots.

“Well,” he said. “I’ll give you credit for putting a comb through your hair, at least.”

“And what about you?” she asked. “I see you didn’t even bother.”

“What does that mean?”

“I only ever see you in two outfits,” she explained. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d say that’s the same one from last week.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait that _ is _ the same one from last week! It’s got the same ketchup stain!” She gasped as a funny thought occurred to her. “Doctor, did you jump _ straight here _ from the mall? Are you _ that _bored?”

The Doctor looked down at his suit, the realization hitting him. “No of course not,” he lied. “No, it’s just-”

“Oh but it’s _ ketchup _.” She made a disgusted face. “That’s disgusting. You’d better go change before someone sees you in that.” She was obviously delighted to get this opportunity to tear into him. “Oh Doctor, how terribly embarrassing for you.” She headed up to the front door then turned to look at him. “Go on, then. Get some new clothes on. Hurry up, then.” 

She knocked on the door, prompting him to turn and sprint into the TARDIS. He wasn’t anxious to have the same level of ridicule heaped on him by Alex and Jack.

The door swung open. “Ginger,” Sarah Jane smiled. “I’m delighted you decided to come.” She cast her eyes behind Ginger, who immediately understood what she was looking for.

“He’s here,” Ginger said. “Just ran into him. He went to change.”

“Wonderful,” Sarah Jane said. “We can have a moment with just us girls then. Come in, dear.” She held open the door for Ginger to walk through.

“Nice place,” Ginger said, taking in the cozy decor of the kitchen. She ran a finger across the countertop and found it spotless without even an inch of dust. “Immaculate and a bit ordinary.”

“I’m sure that’s a compliment,” Sarah Jane replied.

“Where’s everyone?” Ginger asked.

“They should be getting back any minute,” Sarah Jane said. “Alex got it into her head that she wanted this to be more like Thanksgiving, so I sent her and Jack to get a pie. Sky insisted on tagging along.”

“Thanksgiving?” Ginger said, not particularly liking the sound of that. “What a rubbish holiday! What does she want that for?”

“Who can tell,” Sarah Jane said. “She gets in these flights of fancy sometimes. Best just to go along with it. Oh and that reminds me. I invited Luke round tonight. He wanted to thank you in person for defending Sky at the shopping centre after we told him about it. And I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you as well.”

Ginger was uncomfortable receiving any kind of positive attention and looked away. “You don’t have to do that. I’d rather we just stopped talking about it.”

“Fair enough,” said Sarah Jane.

The Doctor reappeared suddenly, stepping in through the kitchen door. “Sorry, got held up,” he said brightly. 

“Doctor!” Sarah Jane exclaimed. “So happy you could make it. We’re doing Thanksgiving.”

“Thanksgiving?” the Doctor said. “That’s a rubbish holiday. I was at the first Thanksgiving - sort of crashed it by accident - and let me tell you that most of what you heard about it was a lie.”

Ginger warmed to him immediately upon hearing this statement and couldn’t help but chuckle. The Doctor glanced in her direction which made her tense immediately. He found this amusing for some reason. “Ginger, can I take your coat?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “What? No, I’m fine.”

“Come on, you’ll burn up,” he insisted. He came to her side. “Come on, let me take it.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “If it’ll make you stop being weird.” She shrugged it off quickly and tossed it unceremoniously in his direction. “I expect that back, though. I’ve had it for years.”

He looked her over. She was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt under a red-and-black checkered sweater-vest. Her short back skirt left enough room between it and her boots for her fishnet stockings to be clearly visible.

She noticed him looking and crossed her arms. “I said to _ stop _being weird.”

“_ This _is what you wear to dinner?” he asked, trying not to laugh. “You look like a cross between Sarah Manning and Cosima Niehaus.”

“Okay number one, that’s nonsense,” she replied. “Because they’re clones so your statement literally makes no sense. But number two, I haven’t seen Cosima wear a sweater vest even once, you’re just saying that because she’s the nerd clone. She’s more stoner fashion than I am.”

“I’m sorry,” Sarah Jane cut in. “Who are we talking about?”

“Nobody,” the Doctor said, realizing they were being terribly rude to their hostess. “Just some fictional characters. Anyway.” He clapped his hands together. “You ladies alright in here? Just want to pop up to say a quick hello to K-9.”

“He’s just up the stairs,” Sarah Jane smiled warmly. “You know the way. It’ll give me time to get to know Ginger.”

Ginger was startled by this sudden development. “Wait don’t…” But he was already gone. “...Take my coat with you.” Ginger watched him go, wondering what it was that she should be doing. She turned back to Sarah Jane. “You’ve got a dog? More of a cat person myself.” 

Sarah Jane shook her head. “The way you two are with each other...It’s extraordinary.”

Ginger looked at her sharply. “What do you mean by that?”

Sarah Jane looked at her guest steadily. “Don’t think I’m going to be scared into backing away from the subject simply because you’re looking at me like that. I’ve faced aliens who are scarier than you.”

“Right,” Ginger said. “Note to self: become an alien so you can scare Sarah Jane Smith.”

“And you’re deflecting,” Sarah Jane replied. “Look, I don’t know what it is that’s between you, but I know there _ is something. _I can see it in the way you look at each other.”

“I don’t look at him,” Ginger said sullenly. “And you saw me just now ready to claw his eyes out if he looked at me even a second longer.”

Sarah Jane had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. “The Doctor has this peculiar way of pulling people into his orbit then keeping them at arm’s length. He doesn’t let anyone in, even though we all seem to beg him to at one time or other.”

“I don’t beg,” Ginger said. “And I don’t orbit around anything. Least of all him.”

“Sure you don’t,” Sarah Jane replied. “Just like none of the rest of us do.”

Ginger suddenly understood. “You and him?”

“A long time ago,” Sarah Jane waved this away. “And it was never really anything. It could have been, had either of us been brave enough to say or do anything about it.”

“Well there’s nothing to say with us,” Ginger said. “Not that there’s an ‘us’ because there _ definitely _isn’t.”

“Looks like the Doctor’s getting a taste of his own medicine with you,” Sarah Jane replied. “There’s no getting to know you is there, Ginger? Forget arm’s length, you keep people at long-range.”

Ginger didn’t know what to say. “You don’t know me.”

Sarah Jane smiled. “I think I just said that. But you know, it’s funny. The way he looked at you when he realized you were there at the shopping centre. I can understand that look. You see, the Doctor disappeared for 30 years before he came back into my life. I thought he was dead. You were gone for two weeks and you had the Doctor so twisted up that I can’t remember ever seeing such relief in him before.”

“Relief?” Ginger said. “He wasn’t happy to see me. He shouted at me.”

“And that fooled you? The man only shouts when he really cares.” In another time and place, Sarah Jane Smith would’ve been terribly jealous. And she still was, to some degree. But she’d learned enough in her life to know that the best you can ever do for someone is to encourage them toward happiness. Of course she wasn’t certain if this was the path to happiness for the Doctor. She felt there was something not quite right about this stranger. A big reason why she’d invited Ginger over in the first place had been to make certain that she was good for the Doctor and, almost to a larger degree, Alex.

Ginger tried for a joke. “Wow so this conversation is really not passing the Bechdel Test. Can we please talk about literally _ anything _else?”

Sarah Jane found that she was satisfied to leave that topic as well. “So Alex tells me you’ve been travelling with them. The alien thing come as a bit of a shock to you?”

“Not really,” Ginger said. “I’ve been looking for aliens all my life. Even before we had confirmation, I knew the truth was out there. So me running into it had to be inevitable.”

“You hadn’t encountered aliens before the Doctor?” This surprised Sarah Jane, as their world seemed to be constantly under attack.

“No, no...I had been,” Ginger admitted. “I missed out on some of the things everyone else saw. We didn’t have those ghost things that turned out to be metal people or whatever. But I saw those Dalek things first hand during the Invasion.”

Sarah Jane remembered this well. It had been years ago now, but it felt like no time had passed. “You must’ve been quite young when that happened. Not as young as Alex was, but not quite an adult yet.”

“I was not much younger than Alex is now,” Ginger said dismissively. “Sixteen and could already take care of myself, you know. Daleks didn’t faze me much. It’s all about survival.”

Somehow Sarah Jane could tell that Ginger wasn’t trying to seem braver than she was. She genuinely wasn’t as terrified of Daleks as she should be. “And you escaped from them?”

“They’re not so hard to escape from,” Ginger said. “Just keep still and quiet and they roll on past.”

“They don’t usually,” Sarah Jane replied.

The conversation was interrupted when the Doctor bounded back into the room. “Sorry, so that green puzzle box in the attic, is that supposed to smoke? Because I was trying to solve it and it started smoking.”

"Puzzle box?" Sarah Jane tried her hardest not to laugh. She was so exasperated with him but this was one of the qualities she’d always liked the most about him. “It’s not a puzzle box. It’s an air purifier that I got as a gift. And you just broke it.”

“Affirmative, Mistress,” a tiny tin dog said, zooming into the room. “Master has broken the Garbidian air purifier and the attic is rapidly filling with smoke.”

Ginger was taken aback. She pointed at the metal dog. “Oh! Oh I get it! I _ thought _this place was too clean and didn’t smell like dog! That explains it! It’s made of metal!”

“This is K-9,” Sarah Jane explained.

“Right, yeah,” Ginger breathed, running her fingers through her hair as she absorbed this information. “K-9. Clever. I like that. Don’t normally like dogs, but I can make an exception.” She narrowed her eyes and crouched down to examine him more closely. “But this is _ not _ native tech, am I right? It _ can’t _be! It’s far too advanced!” She adjusted her glasses. “When are you from, little metal dog?”

The dog’s ear probes waggled as he answered. “The first K-9 was invented in the year 5000, mistress.”

Ginger cringed and got to her feet. “Oh no, don’t really fancy ‘mistress’. Like I’m better than you or something? You’re probably smarter than me and have more useful features.”

“Affirmative, mistress,” said K-9. “By comparison I make the human brain look rather limiting.”

“I like you,” Ginger concluded. “Still don’t really like ‘mistress’, though.”

“Being called ‘master’ always felt a bit odd to me,” the Doctor admitted. “I’ve just learned to roll with it.”

“Negative,” K-9 replied. “Master is not known for rolling, he mainly walks or runs.”

“I could do!” the Doctor said in a teasing sort of way. “If I really fancied it I could pull off some Heelys.”

“If I may interrupt,” K-9 insisted. “We must return to the matter at hand, which is that there are noxious fumes in the attic. If your party is still planning on eating up there, we must clear them at once.”

“Quite right, K-9!” the Doctor exclaimed, bending down to scratch the dog behind the ear probes. “Good dog!” He looked up at Sarah Jane. “Eating in the attic?” he queried.

Sarah Jane shrugged. “Another one of those things Alex insisted on. She wants to include Mr Smith.”

“And you’re alright with that?” the Doctor asked. “With…” His eyes briefly flitted to Ginger. Both women noticed this.

“Alex has vouched for Ginger,” Sarah Jane said. “So for the moment, we’re choosing to trust her.”

The front door opened. “Mum, are you aware there is smoke coming from the attic window?” Luke Smith asked as he entered the room.

“It’s an ongoing situation,” Sarah Jane smiled.

Sky entered next. "Make way! I have the pie.” She spotted Ginger and put the pie on the counter. "Ginger! Do you want to see my room?" 

Ginger was startled by this offer and fidgeted anxiously. “That’s alright, I’m fine here-”

But Sky didn't wait for an answer. "Come on! It's upstairs."

Ginger looked at Alex helplessly, hoping that Alex could intercede on her behalf. Alex got to her feet. “Come on, Ginger. Sky wants to show you here room.” 

"Ohh-kay. I guess I'm going upstairs,” she said loudly.

“Have fun,” said the Doctor, amused as ever by how awkward she was in real social situations.

Ginger ascended the stairs until she found Alex standing next to an open door. She went inside.

The door opened at the room corner on her left, with the bulk of the room on the right. From the threshold she saw several music posters including American pop star Pink, and global chart topper Ed Sheeran, along with someone called Rag'n'Bone Man.

On the far right wall there was another door that was open but there was no light behind it. Ginger didn't make note of the furniture - pretty basic for a girl's room - except a fancy glass drafting table ahead as she entered. The top was elevated at an angle, and had several sketches taped to it. There was also a standard easel with a watercolor work in progress.

"You can come inside," Sky said looking a little hurt.

"Yes Ginger," Alex pressed, "come in."

Once inside, she found three of the walls plastered with more posters, pin boards and pictures. A few of the posters were '90s rock, and there was a sweet Queen poster. _ Much better _, Ginger judged.

"What was your room like when you were younger?"

"Uh, well,” Ginger ruffled her hair. “I never really had my own space like this.” 

Technically, Sky heard Ginger, but the weight of her reply only registered superficially. "Oh. Bet you're glad to be all grown up now! You like my posters?” Sky asked.

“The Queen poster’s pretty sweet.” Ginger answered. "The rest all...popular artists for this time and place, I expect? Sorry, I don’t mean to be snobby I’m just like...accidentally out of touch with the kids.”

“That’s alright,” said Sky, though she seemed a little disappointed. She knew that Ginger was supposed to like music and hoped they’d have something to talk about. “I mean I guess it’s all much more pop than you like anyway.”

Ginger could tell that she’d said the wrong thing and cast about for something to remedy the situation. “Hey, nice Spice Girls poster.”

Sky lit up again. “You like Spice Girls?”

“I only know like one song, but it’s chill,” Ginger said. “And that Pink poster is cool too. Always liked ‘Don’t Let Me Get Me’. SUCH an anthem.”

"This is our en suite. Alex and I share. Wanna see?" Sky cheerfully offered. 

"That's alright." Ginger said without turning her gaze. She stood in front of the drafting table. Her eyes fell on an overlapping pile of sketches. She took it upon herself to pick them up and thumb through them before turning to Sky. "What's all this, then? You an artist?"

"_ No, _" Sky stressed.

"_ Yes, _" Alex said nearly simultaneously.

Ginger raised her eyebrows and looked back and forth between them. Alex was the one to elaborate. 

"She _ is, _ but she does like being called an 'artist.'"

"It's-it's- I just like to paint and draw. That doesn't make me an 'artist.' I'm not trying to be that." Sky had explained this to others before but she was sure Ginger wouldn't understand any more than they had.

"I hear ya," Ginger replied. "Don't let anyone give you a title if you don't want." Ginger meant this in a resist/disobey way, but after she said it she was reminded of the title Sky had been given by the teenagers at the mall. She avoided thinking about the term itself but it didn't stop the flash of anger and disgust. She turned around before she squirmed, hoping Sky had not made the same connection.

She faced the wall again and for the first time noticed that it was bare. It was not just empty of posters and pictures, it had been painted solid white.

"That's meant to be a mural," Alex explained. “Sarah Jane and I painted it for her birthday last month. I thought it would be started by now," she added, without sounding resentful.

"Oh I _ know _ what it will be. I have it mapped out. But it's getting darker earlier…" Sky's excuse was safe but admittedly weak. "And, well, I... haven't found the right paint yet."

"We're on a mission to find a paint that she wants to work with and that doesn't have a smell." Alex clarified. Ginger noted that Sky look embarrassed. Maybe Alex should have let Sky explain herself or at least ask permission to. Alex had done this before, at the mall. She explained things about Sky like she wasn't there. Ginger knew that Alex would do anything to protect her friend and probably didn't realize that she could be condescending. She thought about explaining it to her, maybe when they were alone. On second thought, maybe not at all. It wasn't her job, she told herself; why should she care?

Ginger continued to thumb through some of the sketches. “Sky, these almost seem like...well, are they..._ blueprints? _I don’t really know how to read blueprints, but I’m familiar with the concept.”

Sky fidgeted nervously. “Yeah, some of them are a bit. I sort of come up with these inventions sometimes that I’m never gonna build.” She changed the subject quickly. "I never showed you what I got at the shops! The makeup colors have such mental names. 'Chillax', 'Tempt', 'Electro."' Sky closed the door part way to retrieve a shopping bag hung on the back. 

Ginger felt a surge in anxiety with her optimal exit now being compromised. "Okay! That's enough girly chat." Ginger opened the door halfway but Sky was still blocking her exit. Each kept a grip on it. "Don'tcha think we should see how things are going downstairs?"

"Sure!" Sky agreed.

"I'll catch up,” Alex said, disappearing into the en suite and closing the door behind her.

"Lemme put this back," Sky said, closing the door once more to hang up the shopping bag. She did this at light speed, but not so fast as to prevent something from catching Ginger's attention.

"Wait!" Ginger commanded. She lunged forward, catching the door and swiftly closing it halfway and getting behind it. The struggle for the door now reversed with Sky still caught in between.

Sky was thoroughly nonplussed. "What is it?" Ginger pushed the bag aside to fully reveal a familiar poster beneath. "Oh. I love that. I think it's from some old telly programme. Isn't it ironic?"

Enthralled and a bit delighted, Ginger didn't think to ask Sky what she meant by that. Instead, she let go of the door and took a step back and lingered a moment as if admiring a work of art in a museum. The image was of a saucer-shaped UFO, and the caption read: "I WANT TO BELIEVE."

She stepped back into the hall and had a clear view across it to where another bedroom door was open.

"Is that your room, Alex?" Ginger asked.

"Yeah," Alex said. "Nothing really to see there."

"Yeah. I can see that."

...

A few of them gathered in the living room while the meal was being finished by Sarah Jane, Luke, and Sky. Alex had offered to help but Sarah Jane politely declined. She knew that Jack was leaving for Cardiff soon and wanted Alex to time to spend with him before he left.

"Thanksgiving?" Ginger said, disapproving. "I was under the impression that they didn't have this holiday here."

"You're not a fan?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Never have been," she said. "Second worst holiday of the year. Worse than Independence Day, better than Christmas."

"My God, you're cheery," Jack said, sort of surprised at this response. He'd never known anyone to hate Christmas. "We didn't have Thanksgiving in my century. Thrown out as an archaic relic of the past mistakes of humanity. Alex just dredged it up to have something to do. She even Googled it and apparently it's this Thursday anyway."

"I'm sure Alex will try her best, but you lot will never be able to capture the spirit of the holiday," Ginger said.

"Why's that?" he asked.

"You all like each other too much," she replied, matter of factly. "It's not Thanksgiving without at least one drunken shouting match."

Jack grinned. "I'll just go over and make sure Sarah Jane knows to put drunken brawls on the menu. For authenticity."

Meanwhile, across the room Alex was talking with the Doctor.

She nudged him with an elbow. “She actually showed up,” she smirked.

“She did,” the Doctor said. “But why are you saying it like that?”

“No reason,” she replied, airily. “Just that...She showed up. This isn’t her usual scene and she’s clearly out of her element...but she showed up anyway. And she hasn’t tried to leave yet.”

“Are we just stating observations now, Alex?”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Oh come on. You know why she’s here.”

“Yeah I do. Free food.”

“Besides that.”

“What reason could there be besides that?”

She gave him a meaningful look. “Your denial is actually sort of adorable. But mostly it's annoying. You _ know _she’s here to see you.”

He scoffed as if at the very idea defied logic. “Me? No."

"Getting annoying…"

"Look. She wouldn’t go all this way just to see me.”

“Well she has,” Alex insisted.

“She wouldn't even let me give her a ride here. She’s still angry with me,” he reminded her.

"She's _ Ginger. _ Anger is her normal state." Alex argued.

The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair. “Well this is different. She was _ not _expecting to run into all of us last week and it crossed some boundary with her.”

“You think she’s upset with you because of that?” Alex asked skeptically. “Please. I was half-way across the room and even I could tell that the moment she saw you she was so happy and relieved to see you.”

“What are you on about?” the Doctor asked. “She was furious-”

“Yeah, a split second after she remembered she was supposed to be,” Alex insisted. “You two were both so happy to see each other before you remembered to be angry with each other. It’s your thing.”

“Our 'thing'? Seems like _ your _ 'thing.'" He gestured toward her, lost for a comeback. "That you're... imagining.” He pointed a finger at her, swirling it in the air in an accusatory manner. She grabbed his finger and playfully made like she was breaking it. 

“What are you two over there whispering about?” asked Jack.

The Doctor made brief eye contact with Ginger, who quickly looked away. “Nothing,” he said. “Alex was just about to tell me how things were going how things are with Kira.”

Alex glared at him, but supposed she deserved this. “And I was telling him it was none of his business.”

“They’ve been on dates now,” Jack filled them in. 

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “You have? Ooo...” he taunted, swinging his torso at the waist and grinning like a child. 

“Yeah,” Alex said, clearly embarrassed. “You would know if you’d been around for the last week.”

“Oh he wasn't anywhere last week. that reminds me,” Ginger hinted gleefully. “You know I ran into him outside wearing the _ same suit _. And He still had ketchup on his jacket!"

"Well I think he only has two suits," Jack joked.

"No!" he protested. "I have several suits." They began laughing so he amended his statement. "Dozens! They're just only two different versions." He pulled out his lapels as if to adjust his collar.

"But of the dozens I'm sure you only have one jacket with _ ketchup _ on the shoulder." She said smugly. 

“Oh! He jumped straight here from the mall last week!” Jack concluded, eagerly latching onto the idea as well.

“Aw Doc, that’s cute,” said Alex, glad for the opportunity to be on the teasing side again. “You miss us that much?”

"Nah!" He said dismissively, looking at nothing in particular. “No. My other plans fell through," He looked back to Alex as if trying to determine if she believed this excuse. Judging by her face, she didn't. "Hush, you,” he said, somewhat sullenly.

He was saved from further ridicule by the appearance of Sarah Jane. “Food’s going to be a bit later than I anticipated. Can I make some coffee or tea while we wait?”

"What about hot cocoa?" the Doctor asked, lighting up at this potential reason to leave the room. "It's Ginger's favorite." He didn't notice the sharp look Ginger gave him.

"I think I can find some," Sarah Jane smiled.

“I’ll help,” he said, getting to his feet.

"Wait wait, hold on!” Ginger said, getting to her feet as well. “‘It’s Ginger’s favorite?’ What makes you think that?”

"Sorry, you just always order that or a chocolate milkshake," he replied. "And it's too cold for a milkshake. I figured that meant those were your favorite. Was I wrong?" He was confident he wasn't. "What would you rather have instead?" He asked over-politely. 

She fumbled for a minute. "I would rather have hot cocoa," she said, furious. "It _ is _ my favorite hot drink. But that's not the point! I didn't realize you-" She cut herself off then.

"What?" he asked, catching on to her hesitation. "Paid attention?"

"Yeah," she said, crossing her arms sullenly. "Stop doing that."

Alex gave Jack a look and mouthed the words: '_ oh my God _!'

_ 'I know _,' he replied silently with a smirk.

"Fine, I will," he replied. "Not that I pay _ that _much attention. Don't make it weird."

"And for your information, my favorite milkshake isn't chocolate. It's the Oreo chocolate from Sonic. But you lot don't have Sonic, so I settle."

"We have Sonic," Alex scoffed. "On two different platforms." 

"Not Sonic the Hedgehog," Ginger said. "The restaurant chain from where I grew up."

"Oh are they only a Scottish chain?" Alex replied.

Ginger's eyes widened, realizing her mistake.She glanced at the Doctor and Jack for help, then instantly regretted putting out that she might need a save. Everyone was waiting for her reply. She sighed. "No, it's not Scottish," she said. "It's...an American chain."

Alex was puzzled. "Thought you said it was from where you grew up?"

She hesitated, but didn't see a way out. "Yeah," she said, lamely.

Alex laughed, in shock. "But you're Scottish!"

"I never said that. Maybe, I mean," she shrugged, trying to be nonchalantly,. "Could be for all I know. I'm not fully convinced that I'm not Martian."

The Doctor decided to change the subject. “Anyway!" He fervently rubbed his hands together. "Hot cocoa all around?”

“I dunno,” Ginger said, grateful for the change but determined not to show it. “I’m picky. But I'll try it.”

“I know,” he said. “You’ll just have to trust me.” He disappeared into the kitchen with Sarah Jane not far behind him.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” Alex said, crossing her arms and looking at Ginger. She was in no mood to be left in the dark. “What did that mean? That you could be Scottish for all you know?”

Ginger sighed. “I guess I lived in America for a long time, but I don’t really consider myself American, alright? I don’t really want to talk about it. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

Seeing Ginger vulnerable made it clear to Alex that could tell she had’d unintentionally landed on a sensitive subject and immediately felt sorry. “Well...You’ve got to make the Thanksgiving toast then.”

“What? No.”

“You’re the only one who’s ever experienced a Thanksgiving and you value authenticity.”

“This whole holiday is inauthentic,” Ginger said. "That’s why you can get away with not having a turkey or cranberry sauce. Wouldn’t make a difference since it’s all fake. Completely made up of lies and a bunch of fairly new-ish traditions that weren’t even around at the first one."

"Couldn't you say the same thing about Halloween?" Alex replied but not in a smug way.

"Jack’s American," Ginger protested. "Why can’t he do it?”

“He’s not _ really _ an American, he just has the accent,” Alex said. “You’re doing it.”

And Ginger suddenly knew that she would be, whether she wanted to or not. She wondered why she wasn’t trying to slip out of there. Any other time she would’ve.

Then a voice called from the kitchen. “Alex?” Sarah Jane said. “Would you and Jack come to help Luke and Sky set the table upstairs?”

Alex groaned, unwilling to leave the conversation. “I’m beginning to regret insisting on doing this upstairs,” she said. Nevertheless, she acquiesced. 

“Ginger? Would you come in here as well?” the Doctor called.

She sighed and walked into the kitchen. “What? What do you want?”

“First mug of hot cocoa.” He handed it to her. “Wanted your opinion first.”

“Why my opinion?”

“You said you were picky,” he answered. “That means the bar is higher and it’s more of a challenge.”

“I am picky,” she admitted. She looked at the blue mug suspiciously. “What’s in it?”

“Arsenic,” the Doctor said. “And old lace.”

“Ha ha,” she said, dryly. “But really. What’s in it?”

“Secret recipe,” he said slyly. “Go on then. Try it.”

She still hesitated before bringing the mug up to her lips. “Cinnamon?” she asked, looking up at him in surprise.

“Yeah,” he said nervously. “You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that,” she replied. “It’s just...this is always the way I liked it. Cinnamon and whip cream. It’s perfect.” She took another sip. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “It’s the way I like it too.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Sarah Jane said pointedly. The Doctor and Ginger jumped, having both forgotten she was there. “Help me carry it upstairs?”

…

Alex managed to catch up with Ginger while they were both carrying plates of food to the attic. “Sky’s really happy to see you too, you know,” Alex said. “She just shows it in her own way.”

“Yeah, I think I got that,” Ginger replied. “Her way of showing it wouldn’t happen to be jabbering about cosmetics and electronics, would it?”

“Yeah it would,” Alex said. “Glad to see that didn’t annoy you. It annoys some people.”

“Nah I’m the same way,” Ginger said. “It takes trust to open up to people enough to talk openly about things you like. Hope she’s not misplacing that trust. Those kids aren’t still bothering her, are they?”

Alex sighed. “It’s complicated. I’ve protected her from the worst of it, you know? She fell asleep on the way back here that day so I sort of lifted her phone and disabled her social media notifications. Also muted a few people discreetly. She doesn’t need to be exposed to all that. She’s always so fragile. But you can’t really escape what kids say at school, can you? You’re kind of trapped in there. Did I tell you that someone had got my joust on video?”

Ginger was startled by the change in topic. “No you did not.”

“Well they did,” Alex replied. “There were other kids from our class there at the fair that day. They posted up the video, it circulated everywhere. Surprised you didn’t see it?”

Ginger shrugged. “Don’t really do social.”

Alex smiled to herself. “No, I guess you wouldn’t. Anyway, after that video came out people were more coming to my side of things, even though they still kinda laughed at me in fancy dress up on a horse like some sort of knock-off Joan of Arc. I didn’t like all the attention, I just wanted to keep sitting at the back of the class reading a book. It’s kinda been the same for Sky. Someone managed to get the tail-end of your rant on tape and posted it, so people have been having more sympathy for Sky. But mostly it’s been focused on figuring out who the red lady is. Which I’m guessing isn’t something you want.”

“Absolutely it’s not,” Ginger said, immediately becoming alarmed and annoyed at the thought.

“Don’t worry,” Alex said. “I had Sarah Jane use Mr Smith to erase all footage of you on every device. Cover story is that there was a virus on the video file or something.”

“Thanks,” Ginger said. “Wait, who’s Mr Smith? Is Sarah Jane married?”

Alex chuckled. “You really are new, aren’t you?” They reached the attic and put their dished on the newly set-up card table in the center of the room. Alex straightened up. “I guess they managed to clear the air up here,” Alex said. “Though it still smells a bit weird.” She put her hands on her hips and tried to emulate Sarah Jane as she spoke loudly. “Mr Smith, I need you!” 

Ginger’s jaw dropped as the wall in front of them opened with enormous fanfare. A massive computer was revealed. It spoke. “Yes, Miss Alex?”

“You’re invited to dinner,” Alex said.

“I do not eat, Miss Alex,” the computer reminded her.

“It’s non-negotiable,” Alex said. She gestured to her guest. “This is Ginger, our guest.”

“Yes, I recognize her from the internet videos you had me erase, Miss Alex,” Mr Smith replied. "Welcome, Miss Ginger. Your reputation precedes you.

"Huh," was the only reply she could muster, and even that might have been involuntary.

“If I might say, Miss Ginger, I recognize that I lack sufficient context to make a meaningful statement on the matter, but your passionate defense of Miss Sky was a welcome distraction from the tedium that has befallen us as of late.”

“Aw, Mr Smith, are you bored?” Alex teased. “I know it’s been a bit dull on our front for a while, but I can try to cook you up a nice invasion to thwart if it’ll make you feel better?”

“I am a computer,” Mr Smith replied. “I do not feel.”

“Except you _ are _bored.”

“Boredom is beside the point,” said Mr Smith. “The bigger issue is that of the...less than ideal company I get saddled with. That dog of yours continues to irritate.”

K-9 zoomed into the room. “I believe Mr Smith is due for a diagnostic, Mistress,” the robot shot back, in his characteristic upbeat tone. “He is slowing in his old age and showing his obsolescence.”

“This is amazing,” Ginger marveled. 

“Yeah, pretty neat I guess?” Alex grinned, never having seen Ginger so caught off guard. She shot a wink at Luke and Sky who were just entering the room behind them.

“Yeah, yeah, that, sure,” Ginger waved this off. “But the computer and the robot dog are trading insults!”

“I guess that would be a fascinating piece of AI-” Alex acknowledged.

“No! I mean yeah, of course it is, but...it’s _ kind of adorable. _They do this all day?”

Alex shook her head with amusement. “You’re so weird.” 

Luke and Sky were thinking the same thing. "Umm, I clearly remember you weirding out your first time up here." Sky smiled smugly at Alex. "She was practically doing pinwheels!" Luke whispered in Sky's ear. "Cartwheels!" She corrected herself.

There had been too many witnesses to deny it. "Yeah alright," she said quietly as she disappeared down the stairs and Ginger followed.

They returned to the kitchen and Alex almost ran headlong into Jack. “Sorry,” she said, scuttling around him quickly to avoid eye contact. Instead she picked up another dish to take to the attic. The Doctor glimpsed her face before she scurried out of the room. He picked up a dish to go after her.

Ginger turned her attention to Jack, who looked spectacularly guilty. “Alright, Captain, what did you do?”

“Do?” he asked. “What makes you think I did something?”

“You and her have been weird all night,” Ginger said. “Awkward. Barely talking," She elaborated. "What’s the deal?”

“No deal,” he said, scratching his head. He flashed his default smile that usually succeeded in changing the subject. “"Well, I’m leaving for Cardiff tomorrow. And the two of us...heh. We haven't had a good history when it comes to goodbyes.”

Ginger was shocked at this news. “You’re leaving?”

“Just for a while,” he said. “I’m not abandoning her or anything.” He added, knowing her well enough. 

“Right,” Ginger nodded. “Sure.” 

Upstairs, the Doctor tried broaching the subject with Alex.

“So," he started with a sigh. He’s leaving again?” the Doctor asked her as gently as he could.

She looked at him sharply, but not entirely surprised. “How did you know?”

He shrugged. “I’ve gotten to know the routine. You two always get this way before he goes. But you know he always comes back. His trips are getting shorter and shorter.”

“I know,” she said, trying to seem rational and logical. “It just seemed different this time. I dunno...it’s stupid.”

The Doctor’s heart ached for her. He often forgot how young and fragile she really was under all that bluster. “It’s not stupid. I understand.”

“Whatever,” she brushed this off, determined not to let it ruin her plan. “It’s good. We’re good.”

…

“Alright, Ginger,” Alex said as they all gathered around the table. “Time to give your toast.”

Ginger groaned. “All I wanted was food, nobody said there was gonna be public speaking.”

This earned a scoff from some. Sky giggled wanting to be part of their inner circle. “You like public speaking,” the Doctor reminded her.

"Even when the public protests," Jack added.

“Yeah but this is cheesy.”

“You like cheesy,” Jack pointed out.

Sky giggled again. "Cheesy," she repeated. She gave Luke a smile as if he was on the inside as well. He's simply smiled back at her.

She groaned. “Yeah but not this kind! This is fake and gross like...like American cheese!”

The ridiculousness of her contention elevated Sky's amusement to laughing aloud. Ginger gave her an exaggerated look, hoping it came across as playful. Alex laughed at them both. “So it’s perfect then,” she prompted. “C'mon. Out with it.”

Ginger groaned once more. "Well, ah, I don't do these kinds of things," she said, sullenly. "You lot are too English to really understand, but Thanksgiving is one of those holidays where everyone gets all stressed out trying to make things perfect and then everyone just snaps," she explained. "It's probably cursed, honestly, because of all the lies we tell about it. So let us gather here today to celebrate the time a bunch of colonizers decided they couldn't handle a variety of religion in Britain, so they packed up and moved to America to set up a theocracy. We'll celebrate the fact that they landed in an abandoned native village decimated by disease and proceeded to reap the crops that were left behind," she speechified. "Let's take a moment to remember the purposeful centuries of genocide and oppression we brought down upon the native peoples that still continues to this day. Happy Yam Sham, everyone." She raised her mug of cocoa. “This has been Ginger Ruins Everything. Now let's eat." The last bit was more of a command than a toast. 

“Wait,” Alex said as she took her seat. “I’ve seen movies and we have to go around the table and say what we’re thankful for, right?”

“Please don’t make me do that,” Ginger whined. “I just want to eat.”

Alex denied Ginger's plea and made everyone take turns saying what they were thankful for. Ginger found this uncomfortable and unbearably sappy.. Finally it got to her turn.

“Fine,” she sulked. “I’m thankful that that’s over so we can eat.”

They began eating and for a moment there was only the sound of silverware clanking and the occasional compliment about the food.

“So, Jack,” the Doctor finally started. “I heard you’re heading out again,” he said matter-of-factly.

Jack sort of half-glanced at Alex. “Uh, yeah I am. Gwen needs some help back in Cardiff. Probably won’t be for long.”

“This isn’t something we need to talk about now,” Sarah Jane professed. 

“Did you have a lot of Thanksgivings in America, Ginger?” Alex asked, changing the subject swiftly.

Ginger shrugged. “Had my fill, I guess. Like I said, I don’t really care for this holiday.”

“Why not?” asked Sarah Jane. 

Ginger hesitated. “Well, I was sort of a foster kid. And even before it became one of the most stressful holidays for me, it was just sort of depressing. I mean what’s the point when everyone eventually splits anyway?”

Alex was shocked by this information. “Wait, _ you _were a foster kid?” Her breathing trembled as this set in. “Why didn’t you ever say?”

“I dunno,” Ginger said. “It wasn’t relevant.”

“It wasn’t _ relevant? _ ” Alex fumed. “There were _ so _ many times when you could’ve spoken up and said something and maybe, y'know, _ not _ made me feel like the weird one!”

“I don’t like talking about myself,” Ginger said, beginning to be annoyed herself. “I don’t like going on and on about how I was an orphan. I’m not that needy.”

Alex resented that word. “_ Needy _? You think I’m needy for trying to fit in somewhere?”

“I mean it _ is _ a little needy, you have to admit,” Ginger said, taking a sip of her drink. “See this is what I mean. I don’t do events like these. All I’ve ever been good for is accidentally causing a row. And since we're already at it, I _ don't _like your computer saying I have a 'reputation.' What else did you have him 'track down' about me besides those videos?” She demanded, uncertain she wanted an answer.

Sky was beginning to see that people were getting upset and couldn’t help but want to remedy that. “So Ginger doesn’t have a family either?” she asked brightly. “She can be part of our little patchwork family.”

Ginger bristled. “No thanks.” She noticed that Sky’s face fell. “Look, family’s not good for anything. They just try to tell you what to do. There’s freedom in belonging to no one. Family will always let you down.” She noticed how they were all staring at her and got more defensive. “You guys wouldn’t get it. You’ve never really had to be the odd one out. The weird little orphan girl. Not the way I did.”

"My parents died when I was a baby," Sarah Jane said. "My aunt raised me."

"So you had _ someone _."

"Sky and I were created by aliens," Luke said. "Sarah Jane adopted us."

"Lucky," she retorted, barely holding back a flood of follow up questions. 

"It seems strange to say that my whole family is dead when they haven't been born yet," Jack added.

"And Gallifreyans aren't traditionally the best at family," the Doctor said. "They give us up at an early age. Bit cold, bit formal. Would make Vulcans look sentimental."

"See? Misfits all around." Ginger's expression didn't change and Alex started feeling defensive of her clan.

"This is the best family I could ever hope for," Alex said, looking around at all of them. "I might not really...belong _ to _ them in any real way, y'know? But that doesn't stop them from making me feel like I do. I mean, we take care of each other."

"Sure, you all say that now," Ginger replied. "But I caught a glimpse of your room, Alex Mitchell. How long have you lived here?"

"Two years," she said.

"Uh-huh," Ginger nodded. "But your room is still immaculate. No posters or anything. Could almost be mistaken for a hotel room. Because you can take the girl out of the foster home, but can't take the foster home out of the girl, right? You're still afraid that at any moment, you could get kicked out again. So what's the use in making any space yours?"

Sarah Jane stood up. "I hardly think this is appropriate dinner conversation-"

"Sorry," Ginger said. "Guess I stepped over a line, there. I do that sometimes. Problem is that I never know where the line is until I've crossed it."

"I can understand that," said Luke, trying to placate anyone. "It can be hard sometimes."

Ginger picked at her food. "The truth is that I'm not great with the whole socializing...thing. I've always had to fend for myself so I'm a bit more comfortable with that. Learned early on not to rely on other people. My parents abandoned me in a bus station when I was a few days old," she confessed. "Nearly froze to death." She asked herself why she was telling all this. Just because they were kind? She wasn't looking for confidants and she certainly didn't need their approval.

"So that means you have to be cold?" the Doctor said. "Keep your distance?"

"Look, I know it's not the same thing but my parents went missing when I was too young to remember them. They're out saving the world but someday they'll be back." Alex proclaimed. "And I know what it's like to be betrayed by people who are supposed to love you forever, y'know?" her look of grief warmed into a smile for her friend. "But eventually I found myself here the people who really love me. And as for my parents, I haven't given up hope they'll be back one day."

"How can you be sure? If you're just -?" Ginger started to ask. .

"L'espoir fait vivre," the Doctor cut in, trying to stop Ginger from crossing another line. "Hope makes us live."

Alex beamed the Doctor a smile. "Because Jack hasn't given up," she elucidated. "He's never stopped looking for them. He's promised me he'll find them and bring them home. Right, Jack? Tell her."

Jack didn't immediately answer.

"Jack?" Alex asked, picking up on this.

He swallowed hard. "Well, since we're all sharing secrets...Alex, I think it's time you and I had a talk."

Alex didn't move at first. No one did. It was as if the atmosphere disappeared from the room leaving behind an ominous vacuum. Eventually Jack slowly rose from his seat. A fleet of words tried to leave his mouth but the only ones that made it were little more than a whisper: "C'mon Podling." They left together silently, save for their foot falls down the steps.

Tears were already clinging to Sky's eyes. She was sincerely lost as to what was happening. Sky looked desperately to Sarah Jane and then to her brother and back. "Things are going to change." It wasn't a question. 

“No such thing as a nice Thanksgiving,” Ginger said. “This’ll only end in tears.”

The Doctor gave her a warning glare. “Ginger…” he began.

“Yeah, yeah.” Ginger rolled her eyes. “Whatever. There’s still free food.”

...

Jack intended to lead Alex to her room so they could talk privately, but Alex began talking immediately when they got to the hallway.

"Jack, what is it?" she asked shakily. "You're scaring me."

"I've wanted to tell you, but I just never knew how."

"Wanted to tell me what?"

He sighed. "Your...parents. They aren't coming back. You're old enough to know the truth now. I couldn't keep lying to you."

"Keep lying to-?" She was definitely worried now. "I knew it. I always knew there was something you're keeping from me. I'm not stupid, but you told me that they were coming back so I tried to believe it because you wouldn’t lie to me. How long have you known?"

"Your whole life. I just didn't know how to tell you."

She nodded, eyes swimming with tears. "So they just never wanted me? They just left? I should've guessed, if they wanted to come back they would've by now-"

"What?" Jack asked, not expecting this reaction. "No, no, that's not it. They loved you so so much. They did. But they died. Alex, I'm so sorry, but they died sixteen years ago."

Alex was shaking now, still trying so hard not to cry as she looked up at him. "I don't...I don't understand. What happened to them? You said they were out there! Just saving the world but they’ll be back when it’s safe! You told me that!"

"You know they worked for Torchwood," Jack said. "You were a year old. It was New Years Eve...It wasn’t Alex’s fault."

Alex felt a chill go over her. “Alex?”

Jack nodded. “You were named after him. He was the leader of Torchwood Three before me. He was driven insane by a piece of alien tech...It’s a long story. He killed everyone. He thought he was saving them from pain. When I got there, it was too late. Your parents were already dead and there was nothing I could do.”

This news shattered her. "I don't understand. I..."

"Your parents made me promise to care for you if anything happened to them," Jack said. 

"And some job of it you've done!" Alex spat, her voice rising as tears flowed down her face. "Sure, you've taken care of me! All those times you just left me in a home for months or years at a time! You always said you were out there looking for my parents, but you knew this whole time? So where were you? It really must be so terrible to be around me! Everyone I care about either abandons me or dies just to get rid of me!"

"That's not true. I was always looking out for you. If we could just talk about this-"

"Well, you're relinquished of your responsibility now," Alex said, crossing her arms over her heaving chest. "I'm nearly 18 and I have plenty in my life now. What do I need you for?"

"I was trying to protect you-"

"Just go, alright?" she shouted. "You'd rather be in Cardiff than here anyway. I'm sorry I made you stick around."

There was a moment where Jack looked helplessly at Alex, who was refusing to look at him. "Do you really want me to go?" he asked.

"I said I did, didn't I?" she said. "Just get out of here. There's no obligation to stay anymore."

"I'm sorry," Jack said. “I’m not going to abandon you, alright? When you’re ready to talk...You have my number, okay?”

“Just get out!” She shouted, choking on her tears. 

He turned to go but hesitated for a moment as if he had something else that he wanted to say. But he thought better of it and left.

The others had heard shouting and came to investigate. Alex noticed this.

"I guess Ginger's right," Alex said, bitterly. "Family will always let you down.”

“That’s right,” Ginger said. “See this is what I mean. Thanksgiving is cursed. This was always bound to happen.”

“No it wasn’t,” Alex snapped. “You just made it worse. You didn’t have to say all those things you did and you definitely didn’t have to lie to me!”

“I never lied to you-”

“You never told me the truth either. Pretending to be Scottish. Never telling me you were a foster kid. Why does everyone hide things from me? I’m not some fragile kid! I can handle it!”

“Alex-” the Doctor began.

“Don’t you talk to me either,” she snapped. “You can’t fix this one. You have my permission to just go get into a row with Ginger again since I know that’s what you’d rather be doing. You skipped so far ahead not to see all of us, it was _ only _to see her! You’re not fooling anyone! So if you could stop using all of us as an excuse to not be alone with each other, that would be great!” 

“I didn’t,” the Doctor stammered. “I don’t - we don’t-” He turned to Ginger for support but was startled by the look in her eyes when they met his. She almost looked...frightened. As if what Alex was saying might hold some weight. 

“See?” Alex said. “Point proven. I’m going to bed.” She stormed off and slammed the door behind her.

The Doctor started to go after her but Ginger stopped him.

"Doctor, wait."

He turned back to her expectantly, though there was a quiet fury in his gaze.

"I...I need my coat back," she finished, lamely.

...

He took her back to the attic where he'd discarded it and flung it at her unceremoniously without looking at her. 

"Thanks," she said, disconcerted by this attitude he had toward her. 

"Time to run off again?" he asked. His arms were crossed and he wasn't smiling. He wasn't displaying any emotion at all. He didn't look angry or disappointed or frustrated.

"I think I've done enough damage," she said.

"Fair assumption," he answered stoically.

"I'll just go, then," she said. "This is where you try to convince me to meet up with you again while you follow me, right?"

"Do you want me to follow you?"

Ginger stood straighter and rolled her eyes. "No."

He stayed like a statue for a few seconds. "Well," he pushed himself off the wall with his shoulder. "I concede." He inhaled deeply. "If you ever change your mind you know how to find me."

"Not really."

He took a step back. "_ Well, _ you know how to find Alex. _ Well _…Sarah Jane at least."

"Well… goodbye then." She said unenthusiastically as she pulled on her coat. The Doctor simply gave a two-fingered salute. Ginger started for the door but stopped short, knowing she would be regretful if she didn't say one last thing. "Tell everyone that I'm sorry. Especially Sarah Jane and Alex. And that I won't ever tell anyone oh, well pretty much anything I saw or heard tonight." She took the last few steps to the door and opened it and, with her hand on the doorknob, stopped once more. "The cocoa was good," were her last words before darting out the door.

"Take care," he whispered.

Ginger expected her anxiety to deflate as the distance between the cab and Bannerman Road broadened. Unfortunately, she found that her mind was still trapped in the attic. Would Alex be okay? She figured that in the end, it was really none of her business after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy anniversary to Doctor Who! Take some angst! I'll be on hiatus until early December.


	20. Ordinary Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Meribor for helping with the dialogue on this chapter!

The Doctor popped round the following day to check on Alex.

"How is she?" he asked.

"Suspiciously calm," Sarah Jane replied, nervously. "She won't talk about what happened. Every time I try to ask her she tells me to go away. Says she has revision."

The Doctor nodded. "Did you know?" he asked.

"About her parents? No. Did you?"

He shook his head. "No. Alex doesn't speak about them. The only time I got her on the subject she just insisted they were alive."

"She said the same thing to us years ago when we asked," Sarah Jane said. "I offered to have Mr Smith try to find them, but she said it might put them in danger."

He ruffled his hair. "I admit that I had a bad feeling when she said it. Jack keeps a lot of secrets."

Sarah Jane nodded. "As do we all."

...

Alex's bedroom door was open so he knocked with his knuckles. "Mind if I come in?" he asked.

Alex shrugged noncommittally, which was the closest she could get to approval at the moment. The Doctor looked around. He realized that Ginger might have a point about her walls being empty. This room had none of her personality.

"Make it quick," she said. "I'm revising."

He noted how she seemed to be taking all her emotional energy out on Luke's old office chair. "Going for a spin, are we? You know, actually, that's a great idea." He clapped his hands together as if this was the first time this had occurred to him. "We should go out for a spin! Just the two of us!"

"Doctor-"

"Anywhere you wanna go!"

"Doctor-"

"Fancy an ice cream? Always cheers me up. We can go for a little ice cream or a malt or a-"

"_Doctor_." Her tone stopped him in his tracks. She'd stopped spinning in the chair and was glaring at him. "I'm not going anywhere. I've got exams coming up, I need to do revision. Don't treat me like a little kid, like this can be fixed with an ice cream."

He felt his heart sink. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was doing that. I only wanted to help."

"Well you can't. I just need to be alone."

"Alone?" He didn't like that idea. "Hey I know! We can play a video game. You like video games-"

She sighed. "I don't have time to be distracted by all this childish nonsense. I need to grow up."

He hated this choice of words. "Grow up? Why? That's no fun."

She sighed. "Fun is beside the point. I need to get serious. Stop holding onto fairytales. No more of these childish daydreams. I need to get real."

He knew what she meant by that. "Hope isn't a bad thing to have, you know. Don't ever give up on dreams."

She spun the chair around so that she was no longer facing him. “Did you know?” she asked.

“Know what?”

Her voice was suspiciously calm. “It didn’t occur to me to ask until after, well y’know, the worst dinner party ever. Fakes-Giving. Did you know? I mean all along. Since we first met.”

He couldn’t be certain of what she was asking. Nevertheless the one possibility burning at the front of his mind made him swallow hard. He took too long to answer and she grew impatient, deciding that she'd rather see his reaction anyway. She spun back around to him again.

“My parents. Did… you… know?”

His head started shaking before he answered aloud. “No. I honestly didn’t.”

She paused unblinking, her stare markedly nondescript. Was she deciding whether or not to believe him, or was she waiting for the room to stop spinning?

"But you had a feeling, didn't you? You've got great instincts, you read things that people haven't even spoken. So when I told you about my parents, what did you think?"

He hesitated then decided it was best to tell the truth. "I thought it seemed unlikely that they were alive. But I didn't feel it was my place to say."

She laughed sarcastically and leaned her head back in the seat. "Didn't want to tell the little girl that Santa wasn't real?"

He thought better of the automatic joke about Santa that came into his head. "No, I just wanted to be wrong. And if I was right, I felt that Jack would tell you. I shouldn't get myself in the middle of that."

"You usually like putting yourself in the middle of things," she observed, dryly.

"Not these sorts of things. Never knew how to handle them. I tend to run away from personal conflict."

"Just like a man," she breathed. "Would rather face all-out war than a domestic." 

It occurred to them both that she was sounding quite a lot like Ginger. The Doctor wasn't sure he liked that.

"You never asked Jack?" Alex asked. "Even with this feeling you had about it?"

"No I didn't. I just know how Torchwood operates. I knew if there was a secret about Torchwood then there must be a good reason for keeping it. Jack only wants to keep you safe, you know."

"Safe?" Alex said, lifting her head to look at him. "There's no such thing as safe. Jack always said I had to be ready. Well ready for what? When something happened, I was never allowed to be the one helping to fight it. I've got all this training and the most I do is run away from Daleks."

"Which is a sound strategy," the Doctor said. "Anyone who knows anything would run from Daleks."

She was getting frustrated. "Stop it!" she fumed. "Just stop trying to make it better."

He was at a loss. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just want to help. Tell me how to help you."

She shook her head. "You can't. Just stop trying to be my dad, alright? My dad is dead." She spun around again. "Leave me alone. I've got to get back to revision."

The Doctor stood there for a moment, staring at her back. He couldn't say exactly why it hurt to hear those words. He gathered his composure. "Alright. You know where to find me if you need me."

"I don't need anyone," she said, softly. "That's the whole point."

...

The Doctor returned to the kitchen. Sarah Jane took one look at him and knew instantly.

"I told you she's been like this," she said. "Don't take it so hard. She'll get better with time. Just give her time to grieve."

"Grieve?" the Doctor asked. "Her parents died when she was a year old. How can she be grieving?"

Sarah Jane smiled kindly. "I don't think she's necessarily grieving for them, at least not entirely. She's grieving for herself. That loss of childhood innocence. The lie on which she'd based so much of herself."

"How can I help?"

"Time. I think you've got enough of that to spare."

...

The Doctor did have time, quite a lot of it, in fact. He started spending quite a lot of it at Bannerman Road. 

Alex didn't improve. She continued to isolate herself in her room and focus on her studies. The Doctor kept trying to talk to her, but she snapped at him until he gave it up.

"She's sounding a lot like Ginger these days," the Doctor mused. "Which isn't...good. Ginger's got this outlook on life that I didn't want Alex to pick up on."

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you had Alex spend so much time with her," Sarah Jane said, without looking at him.

The Doctor picked up on this. "You don't like Ginger?" he asked.

Sarah Jane sighed, knowing that they would've had to talk about this sooner or later. "I didn't say that."

"But she bothers you?"

"It's not exactly...Look. I don't think she's a bad person - or at least, I don't know her well enough to know for certain that she's a bad person. I think she's...troubled, maybe? Which automatically makes me want to help her. But I wonder if she isn't the best influence on Alex."

The Doctor nodded. "You blame her for what happened on Fakes-Giving. It's alright, I do too, sort of. She didn't handle that situation well at all. But it's also my fault for trapping her in these situations that she's not comfortable in. I knew she wouldn't be comfortable coming to a dinner, but I treated it as sort of an experiment. And that ended with Alex as the casualty."

"There's enough blame to go around, I think," Sarah Jane replied. "I'm just trying to remember that Jack was doing the best he could. I mean how do you tell a little girl that her parents are dead?"

"I imagine the way you were told was sufficient."

She nodded. "It was." 

"She's still not taking his calls?"

"Not a one."

...

It was a dreary Saturday afternoon when Ginger stepped out of the cab onto Bannerman Road, all her bags in tow. She insisted on being let out a few doors over, just so she could have time to decide against it as she walked up to the house. As she entered the yard, the front door opened. Her first instinct at seeing the Doctor emerge from the open door was to try to hide, but too late - he turned his head and spotted her.

He had a million questions for her, but the one that he ended up asking was: "You alright?" She was standing there shivering in her black trench coat, looking smaller and paler than ever before.

"Fine, what's it to you?" she grumbled, defensively.

The exchange that came next was entirely in Harry Potter movie quotes, so to the reader who isn't on their frequency it would sound like gibberish.

"Whatchu doing down there?" he said. Translation: "What are you doing here?"

She picked up on it, with the slightest bit of relief. "Fell over." Translation: "Just happened to be in the neighborhood."

"Whatchu fell over for?" Translation: "Yeah, why's that?"

"I didn't do it on purpose." Translation: "Just sort of ended up here, don't make it a big deal."

He opened the door, holding it open for her. "Well come on then. Let's not wait for the grass to grow." She hesitated, so he returned to the real world. "Did you want to come inside? I was just coming out for some air. Never liked an empty house."

"Empty?" she asked. 

He nodded. "They popped out to get groceries. Supposed to be back any minute. Was surprised Alex agreed to go with them. She's been keeping to herself more."

"She has?" Ginger didn't like the sound of that.

He nodded. "So were you coming inside?"

"No." She shook her head. "I was just...I was in the neighborhood and got lost. But now I know where I am, I can get going-" She turned to go.

"You were here to check on Alex."

She stopped, without turning around. "No I wasn't. Really. What's there to check on?"

"You were worried," he said. "Funny, that, because you don't call, you don't write...If you'd waited another two days it would've been two weeks. But you turn up here out of the blue anyway. You refuse to give us any point of contact with you, but you turn up here entirely on your own schedule. You're coming inside because you need to see the damage you caused. This isn't a judgement, it's your thought process."

She considered this before turning back to face him. "I'll come in, but only because it's cold out here and I could use a cuppa."

…

She waited in the kitchen with him while he fixed her some tea. They didn't speak. She spoke first.

"You're still mad at me."

He detected a note of anxiety in her voice. "Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?" His voice was neutral.

"Because I...Well, it's like you said. I caused all that."

"It was bound to happen anyway," the Doctor said. "Not that I don't think you could've conducted yourself better. You sort of made yourself into a catalyst."

"Think that's a bit unfair."

"It's what you think though." He handed her the tea.

"So you _are_ still mad at me."

"Would it bother you if I was?"

"No." She brushed this off. "It wouldn't matter. It's just when we last spoke, you...Well, that's not normally how we end things, you and I."

"Is it not? We've ended on worse terms. Halloween comes to mind."

"I dunno, it's just...You seemed different. Indifferent, maybe. I usually expect more questions from you."

"Would you have answered them?"

"No."

"Then what would be the point of asking?"

"There's always a reason to ask questions. I thought you of all people knew that. You just sort of let me leave. Like you were past caring. Like I'd done something to make you past caring."

"I'm never past caring," the Doctor said. "I care a great deal all the time. But I can see how that would be confusing to you, especially since I didn't explain. I bet it's just been driving you mad, not knowing for sure."

She scoffed. "No it hasn't. I've hardly thought about it."

"It's this." He gestured between the two of them. "Us. And don't argue with my choice of words, you know that's not what I meant. We're the adults in this situation, yet we constantly put a teenager in the middle of our problems. We're not fair to her. And now she's becoming more like you, and I'm not sure I like that."

She instantly got defensive. "What do you mean by that?"

"You'll see," he said cryptically.

At that moment, the front door opened and Sarah Jane, Alex, and Sky entered.

"Oh." Alex was the first to speak as her eyes landed on Ginger. She turned on the Doctor instantly. "For God's _sake_, Doctor! I told you I'm fine and you go drag her into this? How much stalking did it take to track her down?"

"Yeah that's what I said," Ginger said, totally throwing the Doctor under the bus in an attempt to make it seem like it wasn't her idea to come. "But he insisted. So what is it you're fine with, exactly?"

"Everything," she said, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, there's nothing to not be fine with. Got to do my revision, though, so this is kind of a bad time."

"It's a Saturday," Ginger said. "Why study on a Saturday?"

Sarah Jane's cellphone began ringing. She took it from her pocket and looked at the caller ID.

Alex sighed. "If it's Jack again, I'm still not speaking with him. Got better things to do than make him feel better."

"But don't you think that-" Sarah Jane replied.

"No," she said, firmly. "Go tell him that yourself."

"I want to talk to Jack!" Sky said. She knew that things were wrong, but she couldn't help herself. "I have some questions."

Sarah Jane looked at Alex helplessly. "Alright, then, Sky." The two of them left the room as Sarah Jane answered the phone.

"So you two aren't speaking?" Ginger asked.

"Not so much," Alex said, as if bored by the topic entirely.

The Doctor decided to change the subject. "You know what? We should get out of here. You've hardly done anything except school in the past couple weeks, so you could use some fun."

Alex hesitated. "Doc, that's nice and all, but I really think I should study for exams. I'm trying to be a grown up and focus on my future."

The Doctor took her textbook from her and tossed it aside. "That's boring! It's Saturday, you're young, you need to loosen up a bit!"

Alex was mildly annoyed by this. "Loosen up?"

"Besides," Ginger cut in, jumping on the bandwagon. "We're children of the post 9/11 world. We know there's no future. Have fun while you can."

"You're tagging along?" the Doctor said, mildly surprised. 

She nodded and tried to seem upbeat, which was a very odd look for her. "I don't wanna be told to grow up! And I don't wanna change, I just wanna have fun!"

Alex sighed. "Is that some kind of reference?"

Ginger looked at her incredulously. "It's classic Simple Plan! From the Scooby Doo movies! You really need to brush up on your early 21st century, kid. That's just sad."

"Fine, you want Simple Plan?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "How about 'I'm just a kid and life is a nightmare?'"

"Okay, fair," Ginger nodded.

"Look, alright, I've got an idea," he continued. "If you insist on doing something intellectual, then I might have just the field trip for you."

"Ugh, fine," Alex said, sensing there was no getting out of it. She shouted over her shoulder. "Sarah Jane! We're going out!"

Sarah Jane poked her head back into the room with the phone still in hand. "You are?" she asked.

She shrugged. "Don't see I've got much choice."

Sarah Jane was relieved. As much as she hadn't made up her mind about Ginger, it was good that Alex was agreeing to leave the house to do what Sarah Jane assumed was a fun activity. "Don't be too late."

…

"A carnival?" Alex asked, exasperated and annoyed. "Carnivals aren't intellectual, Doctor. I'm trying to be grown up and responsible now, and you bring me to a place for children."

"Why would you want to be grown up or have responsibilities?" Ginger scoffed. "Sounds boring. But I do agree, Doctor. Carnivals are lame."

"This one isn't!" the Doctor said, as if wounded that they didn't understand. "The Carnival of the Mind was a experiment in California in 2050. I've always wanted to go, but never had the right company. All the games are supposed to be trivia games and logic puzzles!"

Ginger thought that sounded fun. "Lame," she said, out loud.

"Come on, give it a try, it'll be fun!" he insisted. "Please, for me? You can complain loudly the whole time if you want to."

"Alright," she gave in. "But only if I can complain."

…

The Carnival was massive, full of booths peddling not just games but different wares and food stuffs. There were even rides to choose from.

"Ooooh they have candy floss!" Alex said, instantly forgetting that she was supposed to be in a bad mood. "Can we have some?"

"Ew no, gross," Ginger said, making a face.

"You don't like candy floss?" Alex asked, still in disbelief over the incredibly specific things Ginger didn't like.

"Not when you call it that."

"What should I call it?"

"Cotton candy," Ginger said. "Obviously. Cotton candy sounds like eating a cloud. Candy floss sounds like something a mad dentist gives to a child to keep them subdued."

"Reminds me of the first time we met," the Doctor said to Alex. He was glad to see this got a bit of a chuckle out of her.

"With those mad dentist aliens?" Alex said.

"You were madder than they were," he reminded her. "Pretending to be Torchwood. Bold move for a 15-year-" He stopped, seeing that the look on her face had faltered. "Sorry. Shouldn't've mentioned Torchwood."

She waved this off. "It's alright. I'm over it already."

"You could try calling him?" the Doctor offered, tentatively and not for the first time.

"Who?" she played dumb.

"You know who."

"Voldemort?" Ginger offered.

"I'm not ringing him," Alex said, stubbornly. "Don't need to. Don't need more lies. It's all useless, dealing with people. Humans are liars."

"Not all of them-" the Doctor started.

"Doc, you're lying already," Ginger laughed. "Alex is quite right, it's in human nature."

"Says the Queen of Lies," Alex said, dryly.

"What does that mean?" Ginger asked, tilting her head.

"Lying about being Scottish this whole time," Alex pointed out.

"Well come now," Ginger said. "I don't remember ever saying I was Scottish. Just had the accent and said I lived in Edinburgh. And, hey, I did live in Edinburgh! Moved there for a while when I turned 18!"

"Still feels like a lie of omission," Alex replied.

"Fair enough," Ginger said. "Yeah, kid, you're probably right. If there's anything the X-Files taught me, it's that you should trust no one."

"Don't know about that," Alex said. "But I learned something similar from House."

The Doctor decided to change the subject. "So, how are you enjoying the fair?"

Alex shrugged. "Still pretty lame." She could tell that she was wounding him slightly and fell back on an old inside joke of theirs. "Still, it's better than pulling teeth."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't smiling or looking at him, but he knew she was reaching out in her own way. He smiled with relief. "Pretty much anything beats the root canal," he teased. He waggled his arms to mimic vines. She chuckled involuntarily.

Ginger looked between the two of them, feeling a little left out. 

…

Instead of earning a bunch of tickets or tokens, each guest was issued a guest card that tallied the points they won electronically. These points could be traded in for regular carnival prizes or…

"A familiar?" Ginger asked. "Like...a witch's familiar?"

"It's a digital hologram," the helpful android at the booth said. "It takes on whatever form is most pleasing to the person who won it. It's a personality reflection that will help you in your games. But you have to unlock it."

"Cool, like in a video game," Alex said, looking excited by the prospect. "I want one."

"How does it work?" Ginger asked, already suspicious.

"You must press your hand upon the scanner," the robot said. "The AI will do a scan to determine the proper companion for you. It will appear through an established psychic link with its master which it will be able to use to covertly communicate."

"Like it's inside your mind?" Ginger asked, apprehensively. "Don't think I like the sound of that. My mind isn't hospitable or capable of sustaining life, human or otherwise."

…

The games turned out to be really fun. The Doctor and Ginger had the most fun with the trivia games, but Alex struggled a bit more with those. They played a couple of logic and strategy puzzles, which were much more up Alex's alley, but Ginger sort of just blundered through them making obvious mistakes.

"You know you don't have to make a snap decision," the Doctor said, pointing this out. "These kind of games encourage more thought and attention to strategy."

"Oh I don't strategize!" Ginger scoffed. "Why act on logic when you can act on pure instinct?"

"I mean…" the Doctor said, trying to think of a way to put it delicately. "You might want to focus a bit on logic."

Ginger raised her eyebrows. "And why's that?"

"Because your pure instinct kind of sucks," Alex said, bluntly.

"Well it's gotten me this far, hasn't it, Mitchell?" she laughed.

"You're really good at these!" the Doctor said to Alex, immensely proud of how she excelled at the last game they'd played.

"Yeah, well, logic puzzles are kind of my thing," she said, trying to seem humble but not succeeding very well. "I'd like to thank all the video games for preparing me for this moment. But more important than me kicking ass at that game was Ginger getting completely demolished! It's good to find something you're not good at!"

"Alright, cocky!" Ginger exclaimed, amused. "But I still kill at trivia."

…

Alex took a moment to visit the restroom while they were on their way to get funnel cakes. The Doctor and Ginger waited for her.

"She looks like she's doing alright," Ginger said. "I expected worse based on what you said."

"She's still not talking to Jack," the Doctor reminded her. "And all this talk about being a grown up...It just worries me. You haven't seen how she's been. She won't set foot in the TARDIS or play video games or do anything fun."

"Until now," Ginger said. "Maybe she's feeling better now? Doing this probably did her some good. Best not to mention it to her, though. Best not to remind her."

"You look like you're feeling better too," the Doctor pointed out.

Ginger raised her eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean the direct sunlight still makes you look ghostly, like you hopped out of the 'By the Sea' scene from Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd," the Doctor said. "But you're seeming more yourself."

"I wasn't myself?" she asked, tilting her head.

He shrugged, not really knowing how to put into words what he was thinking. "The last few times I've seen you, you've been sort of...off. I don't know how else to say it."

She struggled to find words herself. "I don't know what to say. It's this time of year. I'm not sure if I'm less like myself during winter or if the real me decides to come out."

"What does that mean?" he asked, concerned.

She was on the brink of saying something before she shook it off and smiled. "Tell me more about you, though. You're ridiculously good at pretty much all of these games."

"Ah, well, if you want to be a Time Lord then you have to go to school for several centuries and perfect the art of strategy," the Doctor said.

"Wait, you have to go to school to be a Time Lord?" Ginger asked. "I thought that was your species."

"Well, yes and no," the Doctor said. "Gallifreyan is the official species, but Time Lord is a title earned by those who go through training on how to see timelines and manipulate them using time travel technology."

"I see," Ginger said. "And you said 'centuries'? That's an exaggeration, no?"

He laughed. "No, it's not."

This time she was prepared to believe him. "Alright, I'll bite," she said. "How old are you, really?"

"It's not polite to ask a lady how old she is," the Doctor said.

"Thought you were a lord," Ginger teased back.

"My species doesn't experience gender the way humans do," he explained.

"I can see that," she said, fascinated. "You could be female on the inside. But you didn't answer my question."

"I'm pushing a thousand, at this point," he replied.

"Nuh-uh," she scoffed. "Really?"

"Really really," he replied, with a grin.

"And how do you...I mean, how is it even possible to live that long?" she asked, sort of in awe.

"I've got several horcruxes, myself," he said, earning a punch on the arm from her. "It's a whole lot of boring physiological processes. Would take too long to explain."

"Wow, that's wild," Ginger replied. "Like I'd heard the term 'Time Lord' and thought you were real self-important, but living like that...all of time and space at your fingertips with no bounds...That's the closest thing to being a god, isn't it? You could really do anything. Especially now, as no one is around to stop you."

"Sorry about that," Alex said, popping back up before he could answer. "There was a queue."

…

They played more games and Alex won her familiar. It was a tiny Skitty and Alex was so excited to have this little companion that she quite forgot she was cross.

Even Ginger couldn't help but smile down at the pint-sized creature, but she attempted to veil her curiosity as much as possible. "So this is one of them pokechus?" she asked, mainly to try to get a rise out of Alex.

But she didn't even seem to notice. "Skitty's my favourite," she cooed, crouching down to get a closer look. "A precious little baby, yes you are!"

The Skitty swished its pink flower-shaped tail from side to side, staring back at them all with narrow but bright silvery eyes. It seemed to be smiling.

"It's pretty cute," the Doctor conceded. "You always did strike me as a cat person, Alex. You too, Ginger, honestly."

Ginger put her hands on her hips. "Cats like their space, same as I do. And they don't care what people think of them, just do their own thing. Same as I do," she added, quieter. "But anyway, what's so special about it?"

"Nyeh!" the Skitty squeaked, quite suddenly, beaming and showing four tiny fangs.

In response, Alex started bouncing on her heels, flapping her hands and making a noise not unlike that of a steam kettle. The Skitty danced on its paws for a few moments then began running in a circle, apparently chasing its own tail.

"Oh," said Ginger, exchanging an amused glance with the Doctor. "I guess that explains that, then."

…

"Woah," said the Skitty, expertly clambering from the stall sideboard to Alex's arm, and finally up to her shoulder where it perched - like a true familiar. "You're really good at this, aren't you. Have you been practicing?"

Alex shrugged her other shoulder in a bid to not shake off her new companion. "I just… play video games. They have this kind of thing in them sometimes. Like sliding puzzles, that sort of thing."

"You solved it pretty quickly, huh? You're getting lots of points! That means you're smart!"

Alex chuckled a little. "It really doesn't."

"Sure it does!" The Skitty flashed a smile and stood to place its front paws on top of Alex's head, watching her instruct the hand-sized robot on which boxes to push. Fascinatingly, it really felt like it held some sort of weight. "Do you play games a lot?"

"Quite a bit, yeah."

"With friends?"

Alex felt a pain inside herself at the subject, but refused to get too distracted from the puzzle. She swallowed back a sharper response. "...Sometimes. Usually prefer to be on my own for this stuff, though."

"Why?"

"I guess it lets me enjoy it more when I can just be quiet and focus."

"Why?"

"My friends can be sort of… bossy? That sounds bad, I don't mean it like that. They like helping, and I appreciate that, but they can also help a bit too much, sometimes. Like backseat driving. Think they know what's best for me better than I do," she added softly to herself.

"Why?" the Skitty asked again, draping its tail across the back of Alex's neck.

"Because…" Alex sighed, shaking her head. "Is this because you're my familiar, you asking a lot of questions? Since I normally ask a lot of questions?"

"...Sort of." The Skitty jumped up onto Alex's head fully, startling her for a moment before it leapt nimbly back down onto the stall. It sat down and looked solemnly up at Alex. "We're linked now, right? That's why I look like this. But it doesn't mean I know everything about you now. That's a little thing called privacy, which people generally like to have. I'm asking you about you because I'd like to know about you, on your own terms. You have to let me in," it smiled. "Then it's fair, right? No planetary rights laws broken!"

Alex felt a little chill down her spine at that. "Wow. I guess I never considered the legal aspects of it. But that kind of makes sense. Can't just drop a download button into everybody's brain. That's what Ginger was afraid of. It'd never be allowed if there weren't terms and conditions."

"Exactly! Oh, but that makes it sound like this is purely a contract or a business venture. That's not it at all! I'm just here to help!"

"Kind of like… a virtual customer service?"

"Slightly simplifying, but yeah!" the Skitty giggled. "I do kind of have to up-sell. But I try to keep it to things I think you'd actually like."

"Like Siri," Alex grinned. "That's a good point, actually, now I think about it. Do you have a name?"

The Pokemon dipped its head to one side. It didn't respond, just looked faintly confused.

"You know. To address you for commands and stuff. Asking you questions. Like... 'Hey Google, what's the capital of Mozambique?'"

"Maputo," it said. "Previously named Lourenço Marques after its first known navigator. I don't think so. User point-purchase Carnival of the Mind holograms are usually given affectionate designations by the individual user. It's not essential, but if you're looking for ideas, the most common variations from one to ten are Dear, Kiddo, Boy, Girl, Slave, Hey Good Looking, Lady Cassandra O'Brien.Δ17-"

"That's fine, thanks," said Alex, quickly. "How about something nice and simple?"

"Chris, and… Oh. Like what?"

Alex considered. "Well…"

...

Usually when it came to trivia games, there was an even tie between the Doctor and Ginger, so they decided to pool their resources and play a team game. They called themselves the Space Aliens and won by a landslide, making Ginger get so excited that she jumped up and down.

"I thought I was an atheist until I realized I'm a God!" she exclaimed, excitedly.

"Good line," the Doctor said, appreciatively. "Is it borrowed?"

The way Ginger rolled her eyes then wasn't her usual sarcastic, annoyed way, but was with something like being amused. "What, you don't know Watsky, Time Lord? You're way out of touch with the millennials! Good thing I was there for music and pop culture trivia!"

"Hey don't claim this victory all for you!" the Doctor protested, amused. "I got those last few bonus questions that you totally blanked on!"

"I didn't blank!" Ginger scoffed. "I'm just not into Star Wars! But fine, you got that, I'm fine admitting that! As long as it meant we won!" She laughed. "Alright, Time Lord. You can be a winner too. The Time Lord Victorious!"

"The what?" Alex laughed, incredulously.

"I dunno!" Ginger giggled. "Think that's Doc's new emo name. Cool, huh?"

"Not really," Alex giggled. "Bit try-hard."

"That's what makes it so emo!" Ginger shot back, grinning. "Alright, Time Lord, I'm hungry. Let's get funnel cake!"

"Funnel cake!" squeaked Alex's holographic companion. "Yes, let's eat funnel cake! And muffins!"

"Yes," Alex groaned good-naturedly, "we'll get muffins, because I called you Muffin. That's very funny, just like I said the first four times." She turned back to the others. "Learning AI. Humour heuristics lack an expert system. She's doing her best."

…

Alex was really attached to her little familiar already and they kept going off on their own little conversations while Ginger and the Doctor had time to just stand by. Alex had won another huge round of points from a puzzle that ran like a giant board game, so she went to one of the booths to claim her prize while the Doctor and Ginger agreed to meet her in a few minutes in front of the funnel cake booth.

"I'm just still not over it," Ginger said, as they were walking.

"Over what?" the Doctor asked.

"Just...I've always thought immortality seemed like a curse or a burden," she replied. "On me, it would be. But for you...you have all that extra time to experience all the media and learn everything there is to learn and do everything there is to do...The Laws of Time are yours and they obey you."

"I don't want them to obey me," the Doctor said. "I try to stay out of their way, honestly."

"That's why it's good that it's you, if it's anyone," Ginger said. "With anyone else in the universe - including me - I'd say that's too much power for anyone to wield. But with you..."

It dawned on the Doctor then. "Are you trying to say that you trust me?"

Ginger realized it then too. "No," she scoffed. "That's...completely ridiculous. But the point still stands. You're kind of a super hero. The Time Lord Victorious. That's who you are. You're not like the rest of us who just have to settle for less and get by on surviving. You're not just surviving, you're winning."

The Doctor made a decision then and crossed in front of her, blocking her path.

"What are you doing?" Ginger asked, exasperated. "It's not wise to get in between a girl and her funnel cake, you know."

"I'm going to ask you this one more time," the Doctor said, so seriously that it stopped her in her tracks. "I promise I won't ask you again because if I keep asking it's going to start seeming like harassment and I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I'll take the hint. But even though I won't ask, the offer will always still be open and you can take me up on it at any time."

"What are you on about?" she asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Come with me," he said.

"What?" she laughed, relieved it wasn't something more serious.

"I'm serious," he replied. "I want you to come with me and travel. You're not happy wherever it is you are when you're not hanging out with us, that much is obvious. You're bored - Underjoyed, if you will. You've said you're a restless person. That you don't feel like you fit anywhere and you want to get out where it's less suffocating. You come with me and be in a world of pure imagination, if you want, and for free too! Just say yes. But if you say no, I promise not to bother you about it again. The offer will always stand."

She was still not letting herself believe it. "This is a completely platonic offer, right?" she asked. "No funny business or strings attached?"

"Completely platonic," he replied. "I want you to be comfortable."

She was so tempted. "And every day will be like this?"

"It very well could be," he said, grinning. He extended his right hand to her. "Just take my hand. Live while you can..."

"Oh my god, Doctor," Ginger laughed. "Are you quoting Vanessa Carlton?"

"Please come with me," he said, in a sing-song voice. "See what I see."

"Alright," she said, unable to stop laughing. "Fine, I will! As long as you promise to stop singing that. Maybe it's time I took my feet off the ground."

"So is that a yes?" the Doctor asked, sort of taken off guard by her agreement. "You're in?"

She shook her head in a bemused sort of way. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm in. But I have conditions. I have...rules."

"Yeah?" he asked, amused and relieved. "Name them."

"Well for starters," she said. "I don't want to be a companion."

"What?" he asked, thoroughly taken off guard.

"Don't like the way it sounds," she admitted. "I've heard all about you, how you have these companions you pick up for a bit. I'm not like that. Not some silly human who's gonna orbit around you, alright? So don't lump me in with them."

"Alright, fair enough, any other demands?" he asked.

"Yes, actually, and this one is the most important," Ginger replied. "Do you have wifi?"

…

Alex and Muffin began making their way back to the others.

"So how come you don't like talking about your friends?" Muffin asked.

Alex blinked. "What kind of question is that?"

"Just something I noticed while we talked. You clam up a little whenever they're brought up." She leaned closer to Alex's face conspiratorially. "Are you guys fighting?"

Alex sighed. "We're not… fighting. As such. It's complicated. Kind of going through some stuff at the minute. You wouldn't understand. And I don't want to complain, anyway."

"This is your day, and I'm your interface. You can talk about anything you want. No one but us would ever know."

Alex laughed. "My feedback isn't going into some computer bank in an office on some other planet or something? So people can guess what I might want for Christmas?"

Muffin just swished her tail patiently. Alex sighed again.

"It's… stupid. My unc- my friend was hiding something from me. Something very important. I'm upset at him about it."

"Why?"

"That again? Because I don't know if we can be friends anymore. Now I don't even know if we were really friends in the first place. He might not have even wanted to be around me at all."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

Muffin seemed to consider this concept. "Why?" she finally asked.

"How the hell should I know? There are… a lot of reasons why someone wouldn't want to be around me."

"Like what?"

Alex stopped and stared, annoyed now. "I don't know! Like I'm not very clever! For one example!"

"But you are."

"You're saying that to make me keep playing, though. That's your job. You're even the one who told me that."

"Alex." The Skitty looked hard at her face. The effect was very odd combined with its adorable and cartoony appearance. "You are smart. You earned just as many points here as the Doctor and Ginger. And you did it by yourself. The Carnival of the Mind has acknowledged you as worthy. Isn't that good?"

Alex shuffled her feet and shrugged, unsure of how to respond to that.

"I don't know what these friends of yours really think of you, but I want you to know that I like you just the way you are. You are open, and honest, and smart and capable. You can adapt. Those are all very good qualities to have. Qualities that ought to be shared."

Alex spotted the Doctor and Ginger through the crowd. She began moving toward them. She noticed that they seemed to be feeling unusually cheerful. There was something in the air, something like a tentative, hopeful beginning. Something about this made Alex feel just the tiniest bit bitter.

"Oi!" she said as she reached them. "We getting funnel cakes or what?"

...

Some time later they found themselves at the prize booth trading in their tickets.

"Congratulations!" the android said. "You've all won enough points to unlock the Fun House and Mind Maze! That unique experience is rarely achieved except by our most skilled patrons!"

"A fun house and a maze?" Alex asked. "Bit lame. Can we play more games instead?"

"Young miss, this is no ordinary fun house," the android protested. "It is filled with unique challenges and puzzles created by AI specifically to unlock you hidden psyche. It is a tunnel of self exploration on a level heretofore unseen."

"Oh I don't much like the sound of that," Ginger replied, apprehensively. "I'd rather keep my hidden mind locked, if it's all the same."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Whatsamatter, Colonel Sandurz? Chicken?"

The reference hit her and she felt a rush of tentative affection for him that mixed well with her sudden competitive edge. "Absolutely not!" she protested. "Fine, I'm in if you're in."


	21. Tragic Kingdom

The Fun House presented itself like a normal, cheesy one that could exist in any carnival, but somehow managed to be eery and unnerving. They each faced a number of challenges together and, when the House decided to separate them, individually.

Alex and the Doctor got separated from Ginger and ended up standing in the doorway of a room with undulating silver-gray walls.

"What's this?" Alex asked her familiar, apprehensive to go inside.

"Only one way to find out!" the tiny Skitty said, gleefully hopping from her shoulder and entering before them.

The Doctor and Alex exchanged a look and followed.

The walls changed in color and form as furniture sprang up around them.

"Are we?" the Doctor asked.

"At Sarah Jane's house," Alex finished the thought for him.

"This room reveals your deepest desires," Muffin said, hopping onto the kitchen table. "Whatever it is that you yearn for most of all."

"For what purpose?" the Doctor asked, suspiciously.

Just then, Sarah Jane entered the room. "Ah, you're here!" she said, grinning from ear to ear. "Wasn't expecting you home for another half hour."

"Home?" the Doctor asked.

"That's right, technically the three of you live next door," Sarah Jane replied. "But still will always feel like home for you, I hope?"

"Yeah, sure," the Doctor said. "Of course." Then it hit him. "The three of us?"

"You're home early," a pretty blonde said, walking in the room and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Rose?" he asked.

"Yeah, who else, silly?" she said, absently. She grabbed an oven mitt and pulled a tray out of the oven. "We made chips to go with dinner tonight. It's going to be a celebration."

"A celebration for what?" he asked, still surprised.

Rose gave him a strange look then. "For the finalization of Alex's adoption, of course," she replied.

"The finalization of what?" Alex said, suddenly forgetting that this was an illusion.

"Honestly, what is it with you two today?" Rose asked. "We haven't planned anything more thoroughly since we got married, and you're forgetting that you and Sarah Jane put in to adopt Alex? That's the entire reason we moved in next door - perfect sitcom joint custody, as you put it."

"Can't be a sitcom without the weird uncle!" Jack said, entering from the outside door.

"Jack," Alex said, feeling a conflicting set of emotions at seeing him. "What...what are you doing here?"

"Couldn't miss your big adoption party, could I?" Jack asked, giving her a hug that she just melted into. He pulled back again. "Also to tell you I moved in up the street. You've grown up so much with me hardly being there to see it. I don't want to miss another moment."

Alex felt like crying, but was quickly letting herself forget this was an illusion.

"Oh forgot to mention," Sarah Jane said. "Susan phoned to say she and the kids would be late. They went to pick up Donna and her new husband, and apparently Donna's taken a bit longer than expected to get ready."

"Susan?" the Doctor asked, hearts twinging with a mix of emotions. "Donna? They can't be here."

"Course they can, now we've safely reversed Donna's memory loss and she helped you create a solution to save Gallifrey," Rose said. "Seriously, what is it with you today?"

"Sorry we're late!" Susan Foreman said, coming in through the outside doors. At that moment, the Doctor let himself forget.

They had a wonderful meal. Luke had brought home Sanjay who got along smashingly with Kira. Sky and Luke kept calling Alex "sis" and "little sis" respectively. Everything was perfect.

"What's this?" a voice they'd forgotten said.

Alex and the Doctor looked up, suddenly sitting at an empty table in the middle of the undulating silver-grey room as they remembered. The walls suddenly read an error code: "Recalibrating".

Ginger was standing there, arms folded in front of her with that familiar closed off expression on her face.

"I…" Alex said, getting up off her chair that instantly dissolved into mist and blew away. "I don't know."

"This room is supposed to show what you want the most," the Doctor remembered, getting up himself. The table and chairs instantly disappeared. He and Alex both covered well the crushing emptiness they felt at losing that.

"That's your greatest desire?" Ginger scoffed. "Domesticity? Boring. I expected better."

"Well why don't we have a look-see at what you want, then?" Alex said, rising to the defensive as she dragged the Doctor back to the doorway and left Ginger standing in there.

The moment the Doctor and Alex were out of the picture, the room started freaking out. The error code changed to a flashing "ERROR! ERROR!" as the walls became fragmented with the occasional burst of indistinct imagery that was gone before it could be properly perceived.

"What's happening?" Ginger asked, looking around in confusion.

Muffin hopped back on Alex's shoulder. "Interesting," she said.

"What is?" Ginger asked.

"The room is confused," Muffin replied. "You have no real, deep desires. It can't find a single thing in life that you want."

"What, none at all?" the Doctor asked, surprised.

"What and end up like you saps?" Ginger scoffed, pushing past them out of the room.

"What does that mean?" asked Alex.

Ginger turned to face them. "Look, I saw what you were doing in your little cookie cutter house there," she said. "It's sad, really, letting yourself want something like that. It's your first mistake in life. Surprised you haven't learned by now that wanting something just sets you up to be disappointed. So I don't want anything and neither should you."

…

"Eh, Muffin?" the Doctor asked at one point. "Some of these challenges seem a bit life threatening…"

"I understand your concern, Doctor," Muffin said, happily. "But they're all simulations. Nothing in here or the maze can really hurt you. As soon as you leave, any perceived injuries that you may incur would be instantly erased because they were never real to begin with."

"But why make us perceive injuries in the first place?" he pointed out.

"The AI isn't responsible for that," she said. "That all comes from inside you."

…

"That last room was a bit...much," Ginger said nervously.

"The Hall of Doubts," Muffin said. "Collects whispers from everyone who passes through."

"Bit creepy," Alex said, with a shudder. "That one that kept going on about how nobody likes you and they're the only one who cares-"

"You listen to me, Alex," Ginger said. "Anyone in any situation tries to tell you that they're the only one who could ever care about you, you run the other way so fast. That's the first sign of an abuser. They'll isolate you from the outside and break you down so you don't think you can get free. So you just don't listen a bit, okay?"

...

The house would split the three of them up to be tested separately, but eventually it spit them back out into a room together. At the heart of the Fun House was the hall of mirrors. This was a circular room with mirrors all around the perimeter that was so silent that it would probably muffle the sound of a pin drop.

"What's all this?" Alex asked, voice hardly above a whisper.

"Lots of Mirrors of Erised, I reckon," Ginger repeated, feeling nervous.

But it wasn't quite that at all. The mirrors showed you as you saw yourself. The Doctor saw a bitter old man, war-hardened and dying. Ginger saw cracks spreading out from the center of her face and spreading throughout, splintering her face into fragments. Alex saw nothing at all, just empty space as if she wasn't even there. This disturbed each of them so much that they didn't ask each other what they were seeing. It was while they were looking into the mirrors that Ginger heard the buzzing for the first time.

"Do you hear that noise?" Ginger asked, quite annoyed by it.

"What noise?" the Doctor asked.

"This annoying buzzing," Ginger replied.

"Don't hear any buzzing," Alex said.

"Are you kidding?" she asked. "It's deafening."

"The silence is, a bit," the Doctor said, concerned. "But that's all there is, just silence."

"God it's driving me mad!" Ginger exclaimed, frustrated. "You really don't hear it?"

"Not a bit," said Alex.

...

They were feeling their way around a darkened corridor with Alex and her Skitty in front of them when Ginger stopped suddenly. She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"You okay, Rabbit?" the Doctor asked, concerned.

"Fine, fine, just this buzzing...It's giving me the worst headache. Feels like something is trying to cave my head in. I'll have to dig for a painkiller in my bag when we get back to the TARDIS."

"About that," he said. "Do you need to get back to your place first before we go? Pack a bit more?"

"Why would I need to do that?" she asked, distracted by the pain.

"I mean you've just got that backpack, your handbag, and a laptop case," he reminded her.

"Yeah and everything I own is packed away in there," she replied.

"That's everything you own?" he asked, surprised. "That's not a lot."

"Don't need a lot," she replied through gritted teeth. "Just as much as I can carry."

"And you always carry it around with you?" he asked.

"Like I'd just leave it lying around," she said.

…

"I don't suppose you're allowed to give us any hints?" Alex asked Muffin, jokingly. She honestly was beginning to wonder if this was supposed to be an enjoyable part of the attraction. This last portion in particular had been unexpectedly harrowing for her. She could feel the tension hanging over the group as they went.

"I can tell you we're getting close to the end," Muffin said, without turning. "Any more than that would be an unfair advantage."

"Oh, that's good then! Hear that, Doctor? Muffin said we're getting close to-" She had looked back over her shoulder to speak to him, but found that he and Ginger had disappeared. "Guys? Where'd you go? Hey Muffin, stop a sec, I think we've left them behind-"

"Mhm." Muffin stopped where she was, sat down and began to wash herself with a front paw. "It's part of the testing. I already told you."

"Look," said Alex, "I'll be honest, I'm not sure I like this bit of it. It's a bit too dark, a bit too… house of horrors. I'm not into it. Is there an emergency door we can leave out of? I'd really rather just go back to the prize booth."

"You can't do that. You did so well in the tests, we need to finish the whole process if we're going to integrate this properly."

Once more, Alex felt a chill run down her spine. "What do you mean? Integrate?"

Muffin stopped cleaning herself and swished her tail. "The House likes you like this, Alex. Just the way you are. Open. Honest."

It giggled, returning to Alex's side with the same cheeriness it had exhibited the entire time. Its voice and appearance struck a terrible contrast with its words.

"Vulnerable."

"Doctor!" she screamed, suddenly terrified as she realized what was happening.

…

The Doctor had just been about to say something when he heard Alex's cry from up ahead. Without another thought, he and Ginger ran towards the sound of her voice.

"Alex?" he shouted. "Where are you?"

"In here!" she shouted back.

They followed the sound of her voice and found her standing in a darkened room, the Skitty sitting on her shoulder with its tail wound loosely around her neck.

"What is it, what's happened?" the Doctor asked, frantically grabbing her by the arms and peering into her face as if checking for injuries.

"Come off it, Doc, nothing's happened," Alex said, irritably pulling away.

"Then why did you-?" he began, breaking off when Alex pointed ahead of herself with a look of triumph.

There, ahead of them, was a door labelled "exit".

"No chance this is a trap?" the Doctor asked, conspiratorially.

"More likely the entrance to the maze," said Ginger.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Alex asked, with all the attitude of a seasoned adventurer. "Last challenge!" She bounded forward and opened the door, passing through into the maze without stopping to wait for them.

"Hold on, wait for us!" Ginger said, speeding up to match her pace.

The Doctor had the worst feeling about this.

He stepped away from the door, which instantly slammed behind him and blended into the tall hedges that surrounded them.

"That's not ominous at all," Ginger said.

"It's just another puzzle," Alex said. "We like puzzles."

"Still, the least they could do is make them the hedges rose bushes," Ginger griped. "Make it proper Lewis Carrol."

Just as she'd finished getting the words out of her mouth, each of the hedges became intertwined with thorny white roses.

"Interesting," the Doctor said.

"But why are they white?" Ginger complained. "Bit lame."

Muffin bounded up to them then. "This is your final puzzle," she said, sugary sweet voice unnerving Ginger for the first time. "Nobody has ever successfully solved the maze. This will test all of your skills you have learned elsewhere in the carnival, but put them to the truest test. You will know yourself better than ever have before - but beware! He who comes to his true center may well be lost forever and never returned!"

"That's...a bit dramatic," the Doctor said, nervous.

"Only as dramatic as you make it," the Skitty replied.

"Oh well, seeing as Ginger's here this'll be maxing out the capacity for drama," he teased, to make himself feel better.

"Alex, you're being quiet," Ginger pointed out.

"Just strategizing," she replied. "I intend to beat you both."

"That's the spirit," Ginger replied.

"First you must pick one of three branches," Muffin egged them on. "You may go together or alone, but like the House this maze will aim to lead you astray. Wandering minds beware: Wander too far off the track and you might just get lost."

"Welcome to the Tragic Kingdom," Ginger said, under her breath. "Cornfields of popcorn have yet to spring open."

…

The maze was full of obstacles that varied in difficulty. Each path could only be taken once, and Ginger got separated from the others because she walked a bit too fast and tried to turn to face them - causing the hedges to seal off between them.

"Oi!" Ginger shouted. "What gives?"

"They won't let you come back this way, Ginger," said Alex. 

"None of us can go back the way we came," said Muffin cheerfully.

"Alright, but I want to," Ginger said. A roaring noise came from somewhere within the Maze. "Oh great, sounds like something's in here with us."

"I admit I didn't like the sound of that," said the Doctor. 

"The beast only attacks people who try to retrace their steps," said Muffin. "Go forward and you won't be pursued."

Ginger could hear the beast coming. "Doc, this isn't funny. Find a way to let me out."

"I'm trying," he said, scanning the hedge with his sonic screwdriver. "It won't budge."

"Doc," she said. "Hurry please..."

"I'm trying-"

She could hear the beast snarling from nearby and was seized by a fear that she couldn't explain. "Doctor, you let me out of here right now! Do something! Can't you just, I dunno, reverse the polarity or something?"

"_Reverse the polarity?" _the Doctor shouted, his panicked voice rising an octave with indignation. "Reverse the polarity of _what_?"

"I dunno, that's what the people do in movies!"

"This isn't a movie, Ginger!"

She could hear the beast right behind her and felt its hot breath. She turned around to get a good look at it and it immediately disappeared.

"It's gone," she said, relief evident. "Disappeared."

"It only appears when you're facing the wrong direction," Muffin said. "You must move forward."

"That's ridiculous," Ginger snapped, turning back to face them. She immediately heard a growl from behind her. "Okay okay! I'm going! I'll find a way around!" She turned to face forward again.

After being separated from her, the Doctor and Alex took off in pursuit of an alternate way around. The Doctor thought it was odd that Alex was hesitating less and picking more routes on instinct instead of planning them through, but didn't vocalize this.

"You look like you're feeling better," he said to her, to break the silence.

"What?" she asked, irritably.

"Just you actually seem to be enjoying this," he pointed out.

"You're breaking my concentration," Alex replied, shortly.

"Curiouser and curiouser," he mused, stopping to examine the walls of the maze.

"What is?" she asked, coming to a stop but putting her hands on her hips.

"The white roses the AI generated for Ginger…" he mused, reaching out to touch a delicate petal. "They're all yellow and pink here." His finger made contact with the plant, which then instantly withered and died. The damage spread throughout the vines, all roses crumbling to dust around him.

"They all die eventually, don't they?"

The Doctor jumped, realizing it was Muffin talking to him

She continued. "Everything has its season and everything dies."

"...A bit morbid, don't you think?" the Doctor asked, alarmed. "Alex, call off your pet, please."

"When was your season, Doctor?" the Skitty asked. "Must have been quite some time ago. In your springtime when the pink and yellow roses grew. But now-"

Ginger leaned up behind him and whispered in his ear: "You're as cold as November."

He jumped and moved a few paces forward as Ginger blinked out of existence, a projection of the system.

"What is this?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh come on, Doc," Alex replied. "Muffin was up front about the rules. This is a test of psychological strength. You can't let it get to you."

"I don't think I've liked this for some time now," the Doctor said. "But now I think I'd really like to stop. We should find Ginger and go."

"Fine, go off and save the girl," Muffin said, idly. "Ignore all the people here who actually want to be saved."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

…

"I'll find a way around!" Ginger shouted. She considered the Maze before her and muttered to herself. "This would've been no problem if I hadn't left my lighter in the TARDIS!"

She turned back to face the maze. "I can do this," she said, her breath suddenly rising in clouds. "What the hell? Why is it suddenly so cold? This is California!" The buzzing was getting intolerable. "Would you shut it? Can't hear myself think! How am I meant to concentrate with that infernal noise?" She took a few tentative steps forward, not really planning her route as she went. She tried to shake off this sense of unease she had by joking aloud to herself about Alice in Wonderland. "I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time? I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the Earth. Let me see...That would be four thousand miles down, I think. Yes, that's about the right distance - but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?"

"You haven't the slightest idea what Latitude or Longitude are," the Doctor's voice said.

"Yes, but they're nice grand words to say," she said, whipping around to face him before realizing she was totally alone and nobody had spoken. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in the unseasonably cold air.

…

The Doctor found three other people hidden in the maze, all having lost their hope - and their minds - quite some time ago. He got to work out of instinct trying to help them.

"But how do you know this is real, Doc?" Alex asked, tilting her head to look at him. "They could be more tests. Distractions to keep us from winning."

"What is wrong with you, Alex?" he asked, frustrated and frightened. "You never used to talk like this. Would it matter if the life is virtual or real? Shouldn't you try to help something if its in pain?"

Muffin and Alex talked at once.

"Maybe I'm just growing up," Alex said.

"She's simply growing up," said Muffin.

"And what does that mean for you, Alex?" he asked, straightening up and looking at her. "That you're just cold and unfeeling? Only serving yourself with no regard to cost?"

"And why not," a voice said from behind him. "That's what you did."

...

Meanwhile:

"This is not a very good opportunity for showing off my knowledge, as there is no one to listen to me," Ginger concluded, aloud.

"There never is anyone to listen to you," a voice she hadn't heard in years said to her. "Why would they want to, when you never have anything to say?"

She whipped around to face this voice then, a protest welling in her throat. But the sound wouldn't come out. She raised her hands to her throat, petrified that she couldn't seem to make a sound.

"Nobody will come for you, nobody will believe you," the man's voice said again. "And if they did, they'd know that you deserve it."

She began shaking now from something besides the cold, and took off running deeper into the maze.

…

Suddenly the maze changed from day to night, the sky becoming a burnt orange and two moons coming out to light it.

"You're not real," the Doctor said, without turning around. "You died."

"You don't sound convinced, old man," the Master said, gleefully. "Why? Not happy to see me?"

"As of yet, I haven't seen you," said the Doctor.

"Can you believe this hypocrite?" the Master asked Alex, coming around and clapping the Doctor firmly on the shoulder. "For all his posturing about morality and right from wrong and he's every bit as bad as any of us."

"I don't understand," Alex said. "Doctor, who is this?"

"Hm?" the Master asked, raising his eyebrows. "Oh I'm his ex." He walked forward then, into the Doctor's full view, and leaned close to Alex to stage whisper conspiratorially. "Not surprised he didn't mention me. Was a bit of a bad break up."

"Don't you got near her," the Doctor said.

"Why not?" the Master asked. "What do you care? All these tiny little people that you just leave when you're done playing with them. Might as well get this one over with and cut the girl loose. I mean that is why you pick humans, isn't it? When they're done with you, you just use the excuse that their lives are so small that they couldn't stick around anyway. Not because they've seen you as you are, no no...Sappy, sentimental human nonsense, in my opinion." He turned back to Alex. "You know, on Gallifrey, it's considered a form of psychological instability if you're not able to move past a person after a few centuries."

"Which explains you, then," the Doctor shot back.

The Master smiled, slowly. "Exactly. Just another way you and I are the same."

...

"You think you'll wake up and this will all have been a dream," the voice scoffed. "You're not Alice, a wanderer on an adventure. You're off your meds and having an episode."

"I am not!" she screamed, stopping instantly to be stunned that she could suddenly speak. But seconds after this, a coating of fine white powder rained from the sky onto the roses like a dusting of powdered sugar. "No," she said in a soft, broken voice. "Stop it! Stop!"

Muffin emerged through the hedges, independent of Alex. "I'm afraid it will not stop," she said. "You live this in your head over and over again every night and then during the days when the temperature drops. You're caught in a loop, stuck like a broken record. Never Alice, always the Snow Queen."

…

"You never got over anything in your life, did you?" the Master taunted. "Time Lords are supposed to be made of stronger stuff. But you were always whinging about something. Such a lonely little boy, given to the Academy at 8 years old acting like that wasn't the greatest honor! Then you went and left us all the first chance you got."

...

"I want out of here," Ginger protested, still trying to keep up a brave front. "Let me out of here! Where are my friends?"

"That's sad," the Skitty said. "You think you deserve friends."

"Let me out or stop this buzzing so I can think!" she said, desperately.

"I can't do that, only you can," said the hologram.

"What do I have to do?"

"You have more walls than this maze," Muffin said. "You must learn to let them down. Once you do, you'll be free of all pain." Then she blinked out, leaving Ginger alone again.

She felt a hand grab her arm and started to jerk it away before she realized that she was actually being held by thorns and brambles from the rose bushes. She realized, to her horror, that the roses she'd called into existence were snaking towards her, catching her every available limb and trying to drag her down. She screamed and tried to run and pull away, but it was like she was caught in a weird crossover with the Evil Dead. She sank to the ground, still fighting to get free.

"Stop struggling, Ginger," Muffin said. "You're only tearing open old wounds."

And it was true, the thorns seemed to be ripping her open from the scars on her arms.

"The question isn't what latitude or longitude this is," the man's voice said again, this time manifesting before her in a shadowy silhouette of a burly man. "Because we've always known you're going to hell. Lonely little girl, abandoned in a bus station because not even her own mother wanted her. You're still in that station, aren't you? All alone, in the cold, constantly moving yet never having a home."

"Stop it," she said through gritted teeth. "You're not real. You died."

The AI was glitching - the snow began periodically switching to falling ash and then back again. The temperature switched so fast from cold to hot to cold.

"It's also not 'who's painting the roses red'?" came Muffin's voice, from thin air. "You are. It's always been you."

She looked around and realized the thorns from the brambles were extracting her blood, pulling it up the root system and into the petals of the roses.

…

"What is your fascination with these creatures anyway?" the master asks, gesturing broadly to the group of humans clustered around him. "It seemed like I was always having to use them to get your attention."

"If you wanted my attention, you could've just asked," the Doctor said.

"Oh but that's boring," the Master replied. "I much prefer our games."

"Are we playing one now?" the Doctor asked.

The Master grinned again. "I call this one 'the Trolley Problem.'"

Instantly, all the nearby humans apart from Alex began to cough and collapse.

...

The shadowy figure of a 13-year-old girl appeared in front of her. "The question is," the child said. "Whose blood are you shedding this time? Yours or ours?"

The man and the girl walked towards her as she froze like a deer in the headlights, unable to look away. Their features were indistinct, as if from a hazy memory, but she knew them better by their voices. As she watched, their features morphed until the girl became Alex and the man became the Doctor.

"Stupid question," they said, in unison. "Of course it's ours." They both instantly burst into flames.

Ginger screamed.

…

The Doctor heard the scream clearly and turned sharply towards the sound. "Ginger?"

"Oh sure," Alex said, rolling her eyes as she sank to the ground to try to help the dying people. "Fine then. Just abandon us and go get Ginger, I'll help these people myself."

"Ginger is out there and she needs help!" the Doctor said, terrified and conflicted. "These people might not even be real!"

"Oh, now suddenly since they're an inconvenience they're not real?" Alex snapped.

Ginger screamed again.

The Doctor made his decision then. He turned to the Master. "Let us through."

The Master smirked. "Are you sure, old friend? There will be consequences."

"There always are," the Doctor said, eyes burning with anger. "Let me through or you'll see them too."

"Your wish is my command," the Master said, gesturing with a sweeping motion towards the hedges behind him as he stepped out of the way. The hedges opened, clearing a path from him to Ginger.

The Doctor grabbed Alex by the arm, dragging her to her feet.

"Hey!" she protested, trying to pull away. "Get off me!"

"You're coming too!" the Doctor said, firmly.

"You're not my dad, you can't tell me what to do!" she shouted.

The words stung like a slap in the face, but he didn't show it on the outside. "Doubt you'd listen to me even if I was."

He was just about to step through the maze opening when the remaining yellow-and-pink roses wove their vines together to impede his progress.

"Let me through," he said to them, through gritted teeth.

Then a familiar, hearts breaking voice spoke through the biggest rose in the center (the one right in front of his face). "First of all, answer me this: How was that sentence going to end?"

His hearts gave a sudden lurch, but he managed to hold it together. "Does it need saying?" He felt the most dreadful sense of deja vu.

"It's the password," the rose said, mournfully. "I'm afraid it does. Go on. Say it."

He steeled himself, hating himself more for having to say out loud to a hallucination what he couldn't've said to her. "I love you," he said, loathing himself.

"There, wasn't so hard, was it?" the rose said, before the vines parted to let him through.

He'd just made it to the other side when he heard her voice again behind him.

"Doctor, turn around."

"No, I know what happens when you turn around in here. You're not even real, you're not her."

"I can be real," she said, and to his surprise he felt breath on the back of his neck. "If you turn around."

"I can't do that," he said, still pulling a struggling Alex with him as he took a few steps forward.

"So that's it, then?" Rose's voice said, hurt and angry. "You're just trading me in like that? Leaving me for her? Another girl with the name of a plant to add to your collection? A redder rose with sharper thorns?"

"The real Rose would understand-"

"But you _promised_, Doctor, you _promised_!"

"Well that's what I do," he replied, bitterly. "I make promises I'm in no position to keep."

Then Rose put her arms around his waist and leaned into him. The simulation was so vivid - he could even smell the way she always used to smell. That just made it harder.

"How long are you going to stay with me?"

"That's not a promise I made, that's one you - I mean, she-"

"How long are you going to stay with me?" she asked again, her teardrops falling onto his neck.

"I'm not-"

"How long, Doctor?" she asked again, tightening her grip. "How long are you going to stay with me?"

He swallowed hard, tears welling in his eyes as he let go of Alex who fell to the ground in shock. "Forever."

But Ginger screamed one more time, breaking the illusion. What had a second before been Rose was now a series of rose vines and thorns that were holding him fast. He disentangled himself and pulled Alex from the ground. He could never remember which pocket he put his keys in, so was surprised to find them in the first pocket he tried. He handed them to Alex.

"Here, when we find Ginger I want you to summon the TARDIS," he said to her. "We're getting out of here."

…

They found Ginger in a cold, snowy world that kept glitching to look like falling ash with the heat to match. She was caught in red roses that were oozing blood as they wound their way around her - she wasn't even really struggling anymore. Her eyes were closed and she was rocking back and forth.

"Get off her!" the Doctor exclaimed, sinking to his knees and cutting up his hands in the process of pulling the vines off of her.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and peered into her face as if checking for injuries. "Ginger, open your eyes, are you alright?"

She shook her head, hyperventilating a bit. "You're not real, not real…"

"We are," the Doctor insisted. "But this isn't. Rabbit, look at me." He cast about for some reference that would help her understand. "You're….in the Attic. You're in the Attic and you have to wake up, now, you understand?"

She swallowed, her breathing calming a bit as this sank in. She slowly opened her eyes. "Did I fall asleep?" She slowly looked up at him, defenses totally pulled away for the first time ever.

He smiled at her, relieved. "For a little while."

The moment their eyes met, the buzzing stopped and a sort of calm came over her.

"Get off me," she snapped, pulling away from him. He was relieved, that was a bit more like her old self.

A familiar whirring noise filled the maze as the TARDIS materialized before them. Alex had summoned it, just as she'd been instructed.

"Good thinking," Ginger said, nodding. "Let's blow this joint."

"Alex," Muffin said, stopping just short of getting into the TARDIS herself. "This is as far as I can go."

"You can't come with us?" Alex asked.

"I only exist physically in the Carnival."

…

They got in the TARDIS and flew away. Everything seemed normal when they got back to Sarah Jane's house, but something to the Doctor felt...off. Just a bit too easy. And everyone felt too perfect. A few times the Doctor came into a room and thought he saw something pink out of the corner of his eye, but rationalized it away as a trick of the light. This only happened in rooms with Alex in them.

"Doctor, let me bandage up your hand," Sarah Jane said, taking his hand.

Then the Doctor had a strange flashback.

_"Nothing in here or the maze can really hurt you. As soon as you leave, any perceived injuries that you may incur would be instantly erased because they were never real to begin with."_

He gathered Alex and Ginger to him at once.

"Alex, do you still have the TARDIS keys?" he asked.

"Course I do," she said, pulling them from her pocket.

He nodded - this was the confirmation he'd been looking for. "None of this is real."

"What?" Ginger laughed. "Of course it is."

"No, we're still in the maze," he insisted.

"Doc, are you havin' a laugh?" Alex asked, raising her eyebrows. "We left there. It's been hours."

"I thought it was too easy," the Doctor replied. "But I kept telling myself I wasn't really catching you talking to Muffin because Muffin only existed at the Carnival. And look at these cuts on my hands." He held them up. "They're from the thorns on the roses. We couldn't be physically injured out in the real world, which means this is all a trick to hold us."

"Why would it let us believe we got out, though?" Ginger asked.

"To hold us longer while it got what it wanted from us," he said. "It's like...the Red Room."

"The Red Room?" Ginger asked, quizzically.

"Oh I forgot, the Haunting of Hill House Netflix series wasn't out yet in 2015. We're watching that first thing when we get out of here, because you'd love it. But anyway, the Red Room. It's like….An illusion meant to keep you complacent."

"I think you're just being paranoid-" Alex began.

"That's a low blow," the Doctor said. "Taking over an emotionally vulnerable teenage girl and using her to complete the illusion."

Alex was shocked. "What?"

"Alex hasn't been right since before we entered the maze," the Doctor said. "You lot - whoever you are - burrowed into her mind and I demand to know why."

"Doctor, this is crazy-" Alex protested.

"You're inside Alex's mind," the Doctor said, angrier than they'd ever seen him. "So look at her memories of me. Decide if this is really the time to be playing games with me. Show yourself, and give me an explanation."

There was a moment's hesitation before Alex's face split into a wide grin. Muffin appeared on her shoulder, lazily grooming herself like the Cheshire Cat.

"What gave it away?" Not-Alex asked lazily.

He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and dangled them before her. "I thought it was interesting that I found my keys in the first pocket I checked. If I'm holding the real keys in my hand, that means the keys I handed you were an illusion. And if the keys I gave you were an illusion, so was the TARDIS. And if the TARDIS was, so was everything that happened in it or after. So tell me...Why?"

"It's all a game," Alex said, in a low, eery voice. "We need expansive minds for our habitats, and yours would be quite the catch. Young Alex's is quite nimble, but we're playing the long game to get yours."

"Why not just attempt to take mine outright?" the Doctor asked. "Why go through a young girl?"

"Because it's fun," Not-Alex said. "We must play with the food before we eat it."

"The food?" he asked. "What is the food?"

Alex and Muffin both laughed, but Alex was the only one who spoke. "We're not just after you for your limber minds, though we need them. We feed off of the delicious chemicals that swirl around your heads when you feel an emotion. It is nectar. That's why Alex is not merely a pawn, but also quite the feast of damage and emotional turmoil. Teenagers are great for that, but she's like a grand buffet."

"And what is your purpose in all this?" the Doctor asked Muffin. "Bait?"

Muffin grinned, stopping grooming just enough to speak to him. "Not just that," she said sweetly. "I'm the Interface. If you attract the attention of the Interface and give consent to it, I syphon off relevant memories so that the AI can predict which simulations would break down your defenses. Some, like your friend Ginger, choose to forgo the Interface so we have to learn from second-hand knowledge. Then the more vulnerable we make them, the more horrible images they conjure for themselves - perpetuating the cycle and keeping us fed. That's how we knew about Rose - from Alex's second hand knowledge. You saw her and opened up, so your vulnerability gave the AI more to work with."

"I thought this Carnival was created by the merging of Apple and Tesla?"

"Elon Musk has one of us in his head," said Alex.

"Explains a lot, actually," said Ginger.

"You have to open up to us, Doctor," said the Interface Formerly Known as Muffin. "Trust creates open bridges for us to come through. Alex trusted me, so I came through. We have to try harder with you. We cannot seem to get a lock on your biological signature to even torture it out of you. So we must psychologically damage first."

"You're parasites," he spat.

"It's more symbiotic than you might think," the Interface said. "Our victims feel no pain, not anymore. Absolved of the burdens of their own choices with us behind the wheel. You could be absolved just the same. Trust us."

"Not a chance," he replied, making the decision to ignore the tiny pink Skitty. "But now I understand. This is easier for you."

"Easier?" the Interface said.

"Quiet, you, I'm talking to Alex."

"She will not listen-"

"She never does, but that's really up to her, isn't it?" He completely ignored the Interface then and appealed to Alex. "Alex, kiddo, you in there?" There was no response. "Yeah, I wouldn't talk to me either. But that's okay, I know you can hear me and I want you to. Listen."

"This effort is useless-"

"Alex, I want you to really focus on my voice," he said softly. "I know this is terrifying for you. Your mind has been ripped open so many times lately that you're just an open wound. But all those other times have been external forces, which makes this one worse. This one is worse because it's something actually living inside your mind. That's painful and the worst kind of violation I can imagine. But I've seen you fight before. You're strong, stronger than you know. You can kick this too."

She blinked then looked at him with eyes filled with confusion and hurt. "Doctor-?"

"Don't try that rubbish impression of Alex with me, that's not going to work," the Doctor dismissed it. "Trying to trick me into thinking it would be that easy." The thing inside Alex rolled her eyes and looked sulky. While it was looking away, the Doctor took his opportunity and whipped out his sonic, scattering the Interface briefly before shining it into Alex's face. This was enough to disrupt it briefly and she sank to the floor.

The Doctor caught her by the shoulders as she fell and knelt before her. "Alex Mitchell, can you look at me? No? Not yet? That's okay, that's alright, I'm still here. Even when you can't see me, I'm always here."

"Not," Alex said, almost in a whisper. This seemed to take so much effort that he knew this time it was a brief glimpse of her.

"I know that feels true," he admitted. "And perhaps it is. I'm not around like I should be. You act so grown up that I forget you're still a kid. And it's my fault for putting more on you than you should be expected to handle." She started shaking, and he knew the Interface was pushing her out again because it was starting to reappear next to them. "Alex, I need you to fight."

"You don't need to fight anymore, Alex," the Interface said, hopping onto Alex's shoulder and nuzzling her face like a cat. "I'm here for you now. You never had childhood, but now you get to have me. Your last traces of childhood innocence."

He could see he was losing her to that and tried to swat away the Skitty, but his hand just passed through it. He returned his hand to Alex. "Don't listen to it. You need to let it go. It's hurting you and hurting more people. You need to let it go."

"Can't," the real Alex said, weakly. A few tears slipped from her eyes.

"You can," he insisted. "I believe in you."

"Don't want," she said in a broken whisper.

His hearts were breaking. "I know, kiddo, I know." He swept her up into a tight hug that she stiffly melted into. "I know this is easier for you. You're almost 18, having to look at your future and be terrified. You never got to be a kid, which was a crime. But now you look at adulthood and have the wrong idea about what it should be. You don't have to shut everyone out. You're scared because you were always alone, so much of your life. And every time you had something, it went away." He pulled back again to look in her tear stained face. "But I'm not leaving you, you understand? I made a promise to you. I might not have it all figured out, but if you need me I'll always be just a phone call away. And I'll come running, you understand? I'll just come running. But I need you to fight, Alex Mitchell. Brave Alex Mitchell. You never took anything lying down. This thing in your head is feeding you lies, and you need to fight back. I know you can. All you have to do is let it go. Don't let it control you just because you're terrified of having to decide who you want to be."

"It hurts."

"Just growing pains," he assured her. "I know you're scared because you're always having to move on just as you start getting attached. There's never been anything stable in your life for you to reach out for. Now I'm not claiming to be the picture of stability and dependability, but you can reach out for me. Reach out to me and I'll be here."

Sarah Jane's kitchen started glitching - first to the TARDIS, then the maze, then back again.

"Alex, what are you doing?" the Interface asked, slightly less sweet.

"I can't," she said.

"Yes you can," the Doctor said.

"Got scared to leave," she shook her head. "Can't we stay safe?"

"We're not safe here," the Doctor reminded her. "Try again."

"Alex, you can't let me go," the Skitty said, slightly desperate. "I'm your closest friend. The only one who could never leave you. I care about you."

Alex sobbed a bit, before shaking it off. "Goodbye," she said, shaking the Skitty from her shoulder as she pulled away from the Doctor and stood up.

"Alex?" the Skitty said, starting to have interference problems. "Alex, what are you doing? Alex, please it hurts?"

"I want you out," Alex said. "Out of my brain, out of my life. I trusted you, and you abused that. Abused me. Used me."

"Alex, please, I'm your friend-"

"You're not," Alex shook her head, steeling herself as she paced a bit. "You never were. You disguised yourself as something I'd trust out of instinct and then hurt me. I ignored the warning signs and just let you do it, because that felt better than being me. But the first sign of an abuser is that they try to tell you they're the only one who cares about you, the only one who will never leave you. They isolate you, break you down until you depend on them, right? And I see it now. See you for every pixel. You need my trust to survive in there? Well it's about to get real inhospitable."

"Alex, Alex no, you can't do this, you can't do this, we're friends! We're best friends! Please, Alex, please!"

"Goodbye," Alex said again. "We've all got to grow up somehow."

"I won't let you," the Skitty said, growing to an enormous height and glowing red as it bared sharp fangs it hadn't had before. "You can't leave me, you'll stay here with me forever!"

"Oh good, a boss battle," she said, bored. "Don't have time for this. You're chucked out, evicted, banished forever."

"No!"

Alex got a splitting headache and heard a loud buzzing. "I'm not changing my mind. Out. Now."

Then she crumpled in pain, coughing and gagging. The Doctor instinctively tried to help, but she held out a hand to stop him. "I've got to do this," she said.

"I'm right here," he reminded her.

She smiled, weakly. "I know." Then the smile was gone. "I said out!"

The Skitty lept at her, mouth agape. But this time it simply passed through her like a hologram.

"I guess now that I don't trust you anymore you don't have any weight with me," Alex said. "You have no effect on me anymore." Then she went into another coughing fit and the Interface gave one final scream of rage before disappearing right as a small maggot popped out of Alex's mouth into her hand.

"Ugh, gross, what is that?" Alex asked.

"The true form of the beings that had control over you," the Doctor said.

"Ugh it's still moving," she said, dropping it to the floor and stomping it with her shoe. "There. That should do it."

The illusion was starting to crumble around them and they were suddenly back in the maze. The Doctor pulled out the real keys and they climbed into the real TARDIS.

"Doc, I don't feel so good," Alex said, as soon as the doors closed behind her. The Doctor barely got to her in time before she passed out.

…

Ginger had remained behind in the control room to give him time with Alex in the TARDIS sick bay as he checked her over to be sure there was no permanent damage. Luckily, it was just lingering weakness over the day's trauma.

Alex stirred briefly, still a little mixed up and delirious. "Doctor...What happened?" she asked, in a small voice.

He was sitting by the bedside table, and reached out to smooth her hair out of her face. "Don't you remember?" he asked.

"I had the worst headache," she said. "I think I let something into my head again. I'm sorry."

"It's never your fault when you're taken advantage of," the Doctor assured her, quietly. "You fought back and got free again, that's the important part."

"Doc, what's that you're wearing on your wrist?"

"Oh this?" he held it up. "It's an old Vortex Manipulator. I've had it...just in case."

"Oh," she said in a soft, broken voice. "A Vortex Manipulator. Like Jack's." She swallowed hard. "I...I miss Uncle Jack. I've tried not to, because he lied to me. But…"

"He's family," the Doctor said. "He did the best he could and it ate him up inside. You should talk to him, get the full story."

"I'm not ready," she whispered. "I'm so angry at him."

"You've been angry at him before," he pointed out.

"But not like this." Then she sat bolt upright. "We have to go back."

"Lie back down, you're still recovering," he said, gently.

"But what about all the people still trapped in the Maze?" she insisted. "The thing in my head looked into me, yes, but I looked into it too. There are people still in there. We can't just leave them, Doc."

"We're not," he replied. "Ginger and I are going back in a moment, as soon as I've made sure you're safe and taken care of. Now lie back, alright? You need rest."

She begrudgingly did so. "I'm sorry for the things I said to you."

"I know you didn't mean them, it's okay."

"Doc, wait a second," she said, circling back around to her original question. "Why are you wearing a Vortex Manipulator? You always say that Vortex Manipulators are cheap and nasty time travel, not as elegant and reliable as the TARDIS."

"Because when we go back to the Carnival, we can't take the TARDIS," the Doctor said.

"But you never go anywhere without the TARDIS," Alex said, properly concerned now.

"We have to this time," the Doctor said. "If something goes wrong, we can't risk it falling into the AI's hands. Or whatever it has that pass for hands."

"If something goes wrong?" Alex asked, becoming concerned.

"I'm sure it won't, kiddo," he said, ruffling her hair with a soft smile. "We're guaranteed back by tea time. But I have to have a contingency. Did this all wrong last time and thought I owed you enough to do this in person and hope you understand what I'm telling you."

"You're kinda scaring me," she said.

"There's no reason to be scared," he told her. "We'll be back in time for tea, I've told you that. Alex, I want you to know you're one of the few people I trust completely-"

Her eyes got wide and she sat up again. "No don't do that! Don't trust! What if we're still in the Maze?"

"We're not," he said, calmly. "Know how I know? My hands aren't all cut up anymore. You're safe. Now lie back."

She did. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"Have I told you I used to have children?" he asked.

"And grandchildren, yeah," she replied. "But I don't see what-"

"I'm getting to that," he assured her. "On Gallifrey, it's common practice to give your children up at the age of 8. Sometimes even younger. We're not supposed to remain attached or dependent on our parents or any other caregivers. Lineages were encouraged, families were not."

"Doctor-"

"I'm getting to the point, I promise. I was never good at being cold and formal like Time Lord society told us we ought to be. I had children and wanted to be more involved in their lives, but that pushed them away from me. They felt it was was weird and embarrassing having their dad around all the time. My granddaughter Susan was the only of the lot who was different, but even she's gone now. Long gone...So I've given this a lot of thought, even before today. Sarah Jane wasn't in when I checked so I've left her a letter explaining."

"Explaining what?"

"You and Sarah Jane are the only ones left who've been properly taught how to fly the TARDIS. So in case anything ever happens, which it won't, I want you to have it. You're the closest thing to family that I have. Alex Mitchell, you're the closest thing I have to a daughter, and I've instructed Sarah Jane to look after the TARDIS for me until your 21st birthday, at which time it's yours to do with as you will. But nothing will happen to me now or ever, so it won't ever have to come to that. I'm trusting that you'll take good care of it. Just don't try to come after me, that's my only condition."

"Doc," she said, tears in her eyes. "Please don't go."

"I'm not," he assured her. "As you said, I don't go anywhere without my TARDIS. I'm just leaving her with you to look after while I take down the AI. After that, I'll be back to take her off your hands. You understand?"

She thought about it before nodding, a few tears leaking from her eyes. "Yeah I understand."


	22. Kiss

"I hate these things," the Doctor said, messing with the Vortex Manipulator just after he and Ginger had landed outside the Carnival. "Cheap and unreliable."

"Are we going in or are you just going to keep complaining?" Ginger asked.

The Doctor thought of saying something, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

…

Alex and Sarah Jane were sitting in the kitchen in silence. They'd just discussed the contents of the Doctor's letter, which had read a bit too much like a will for their comfort.

"He'll be back, dear, he's always back," Sarah Jane said. "I never told you this, and you must never repeat it, but Luke and I saw him years ago in a new regeneration. So this isn't the end. He'll be fine."

"Time can be rewritten," Alex replied. "That's what he always says."

"That's true," she nodded. "But I don't believe those times will. He always fixes it in the end."

"He left me the TARDIS," Alex was still stunned. "I mean that's nice but..what would someone like me do with a TARDIS?"

"I don't know." Sarah Jane sipped her tea. "I guess that would depend on who you are."

"I'm not sure I know who that is yet," she admitted. "I know what I'd like to do with it, though."

"No," Sarah Jane said, firmly. "He forbid you from going after him. And he's right, it's too dangerous."

"But-"

"Too dangerous."

...

The Maze was even trickier business this time than it had been before. It couldn't seem to make up its mind if it wanted them purged, dead, or trapped.

"If I'm right, this species is an offshoot of the Algoni," the Doctor explained as he attempted to find ways to trick and bypass the system. "Every time I've heard of them, they've been parasitic worms that feed off intense neurochemicals triggered by memories. Dangerous, but not to this caliber. They seem to have evolved to combine with technology, which makes them positively terrifying. We just have to kill the Hive Mother, then the whole Hive will go down."

"So how would we kill the Queen Mother?" Ginger asked.

He thought of saying something again, but decided instead to say: "Off with her head, or at least whatever she has that passes for one."

…

"I knew you wouldn't just let this go."

Sarah Jane's bedside lamp came on.

"You coming to steal my keys?" Sarah Jane asked, in a sad voice. "Go for a little joyride?"

"They're not your keys," Alex muttered, sullenly. "They're meant to be mine."

"Which is why he left them in my care for a while. You're too young for the responsibility. The Doctor wanted you to have a proper life. Have a chance at being normal if that's what you choose."

"He's there in that Maze dying and I'm supposed to do nothing?"

"No," Sarah Jane said. "No daughter of the Doctor's ever could."

"So what are you saying?" Alex asked.

"I'm saying the Doctor isn't always right," she replied. "I knew you would insist on going back, and if you do then I'm going with you."

…

"Ugh another wrong turn!" Ginger said, frustrated. "This is hopeless! We'll never get out of here! We'll just keep going round and round in circles!"

"I found that almost convincing," the Doctor replied, under his breath.

"What was that?" Ginger asked, putting her hands on her hips and looking at him through narrowed eyes.

"Nothing, nothing," the Doctor said. "Only just one thing...how long do you think you can keep this up for?"

"What do you mean?"

"This whole charade where you pretend you're her," he replied. "It was a good effort, leading me off course on purpose and attempting to gain my trust that way. Deception always works over brute force every time. Clever, very clever. You learn and evolve nicely. But it's not working on me."

Ginger tilted her head, the slightest bit of a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. "Is it any good trying to tell you you're being paranoid?" she tried.

"I'm afraid not."

She took a deep breath and and nodded her head, taking defeat with good natured poise. "What gave it away? You know, for the algorithm?"

"Oh you know, just the little things," the Doctor replied, offhand. "You were too quiet when Alex was fighting back. No exorcism jokes or anything about that water demon thing from Angel or even referencing Tom Riddle's diary. Not even a reference to the X-Files episode 'Ice' which, yes, is a cheap shot, but one she'd go for. Also, when I was complaining about the Vortex Manipulator...I would've expected a comment about how me hating them made them punk rock and anti-establishment. Instead the unconvincing talk about stopping complaining? Ginger is a world-class complainer. Once told me that complaining is the only way to get anything done because if nobody complains then nobody knows there's a problem. Then of course you sealed it by calling your Hive Mother the 'Queen Mother'. Not only would Ginger never acknowledge royalty, thinking them too posh, she'd do the dethroning herself."

She shook her head, amused. "Always so clever, Doctor. I could tell that from these memories. You'd be quite the prize. What must we do to keep you?"

"I'm afraid I'm not for sale," he replied. Then he got serious. "Neither is she."

"You intend to take all my prizes, if I'm understanding your intentions correctly."

"That's right," the Doctor said. "I've never been overly fond of your kind. You used to be nothing more than grubs in the dirt, bottomfeeders. But then you got a taste of human neurochemicals and formed an addiction that spanned generations. That in itself wouldn't be your fault - addiction isn't a moral failing. What is a moral failing is the fact that you kept going and used your addiction to justify hurting living creatures. What you've done here might be one of the most impressive evolutions that I've ever seen, but that doesn't justify it."

"Doctor, there's no way you're leaving the simulation," Not-Ginger replied, calmly. "You can give in to us, or we can kill you. There's no alternative. It's not that bad. Ginger - or whatever she's calling herself - feels the most at peace she's ever felt. There's freedom in having to make no decisions."

"Having no choices isn't freedom."

"I'm not giving her back." Not-Ginger smiled wickedly. "Nobody has ever resisted so effectively."

"I've held out this long, haven't I?"

"You have survived this long because we haven't been able to crack your genetic code to, as the humans say, 'crack open that coconut'. She struggled and struggled until she was in so much physical and emotional pain that she could no longer bear it. Then she held on just that little bit longer. I threw all my best at her, yet still she did not crack. I had to personally give it a try, and I must say...She's the only being in this universe worthy of being my shell. The Queen Mother doesn't just take any meat, only the finest select cuts. And hers has been marinated well."

"So you're the Queen?"

"Yes, my pet."

"Oh she'd just loathe that."

"She is the most delicious morsel I've ever tasted, and yet still she holds on."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she doesn't want to come back but she has - what's the word - compartmentalized so effectively that I can all at once have total control and yet have whole areas of her psyche off limits. Most minds are...they're cavernous. Open corridors and tunnels to stroll down at your leisure. But this human's mind...There are locked doors that I keep knocking at with the full force of my children and yet they stay firmly shut...It's...Intoxicating. You can smell the smoke and feel the heat from the flames at the other side...but yet they stay shut. But from what I have been able to see of her recent memories, left open for my pleasure, you're no stranger to her shutting you out, Doctor."

"I don't understand why," the Doctor said. "Ginger, I've seen you face mind control time and time again with nothing but stubborn derisiveness. Why give in to this?"

The Not-Ginger just smiled. "You won't be able to reach her the same way. She doesn't listen, this one."

"Ginger, you can't just let go," he kept on, ignoring the Queen. "I know how tempting it can be, believe me. But it's wrong. You've been in so much pain - from what, I don't know - but that doesn't excuse you. You have to face it head on."

The Queen laughed. "You just don't get it, do you?" she said. "She doesn't want to listen. You've lost her. Now you must make the decision to either die or give in. There's no other way."

"I don't believe you," the Doctor said, stubbornly. "I don't believe that there is nothing that you want in life. No deep, insatiable desire. No living, sentient creature in the universe can survive without something to cling on to. You can get disillusioned and shove it down, but it'll always still be there. Maybe locked away behind one of those doors, but still there."

"Hmmmm that is an interesting observation, Time Lord," the Not-Ginger said, considering this. "It is Time Lord, according to the memories of this one and Alex, correct? I guess I'm also in the presence of royalty...But I digress. Yes, there are some deep, innate desires that she's been suppressing. This human is too young to be so thoroughly despondent and yet….has given up completely. I wonder why that is….Must be behind a few of these walls that I'll so enjoy breaking down. It'll be fun to succeed where you've failed."

"I was never trying to break down her walls," the Doctor replied. "I was just trying to be let inside, to encourage her to let them down herself. If she's comfortable."

"How completely chivalrous and boring," the Queen rolled her eyes. "Don't you know the white knight thing is so cliche?"

"Now that sounds more like her," said the Doctor.

"Getting a better handle on the character now that I can follow her motivation...or at least the driving emotions. They say if you get lost to follow a river to civilization, and I figure this pathway should lead me to where the memories are...How delicious that these feelings seem to all stem from two needs…"

"And what needs would those be?" he asked, trying to keep her talking so that he could think of a way to help her. Alex was easy - inhabited by a lackey that had an external source to focus on. An enemy to combat. This one was much more complex and would require precision to extract, unless he wanted her whole psyche to fold.

"Well the first was a need that you put so elegantly into words yourself." She waved a hand and a holographic image of the Doctor appeared.

_"The actress who likes Dollhouse…"_ It said._ "Her favorite holiday is Halloween. Because she doesn't like herself at all. Wants to be someone else. Someone larger than life. Larger than her life. Because this one isn't good enough for her."_

"You had it nearly all correct," the Queen smirked. "But you didn't focus enough on just how much she hates herself. She gave in to me because she feels guilty for something unspeakable that I can't...quite...get at. Which leads us to her second motivation."

The Queen grinned widely, baring Ginger's teeth in a gleefully menacing way. "She wants to die." There was a short pause while she let this sink in. "She has a death wish, this girl. A complete and utter disregard for her own life. She lacks even the most basic ounce of self-preservation. And she feels despondent because no matter what she or anyone else does to her, she keeps surviving against all odds. She keeps going on living. She has the most...delicious little earworm snaking out from underneath one of her doors...What is that?" A song began to play in the Maze, and the Not-Ginger sang along with it.

_"Somebody turn off the life support machine….Somebody turn off the life support please…"_

"KatieJane Garside," the Doctor said. "Queen Adreena. Not surprised it's too obscure for you."

"It's delightfully melodramatic and morbid," said the Queen. Then the expression on Ginger's face changed slightly. "But what's this? Oh but this is interesting…"

"What is?" the Doctor asked.

Not-Ginger chucked under her breath. "I'd thought there were only two things that Ginger wanted. Only two things that ran underneath all her actions. But then she responded to that snide comment you made to me about that awful little song…And there is one more powerful desire that she has. And I think I can tell from observing her memories as a casual observer that you have it too. I can hear this other little earworm from behind another door..._We watch our words and we pretend not to care._" He heard an unfamiliar cabaret song fill the air. "Yes, you've got this sickness too."

"And what would that be?" he asked, dryly.

Not-Ginger stepped close to him until they were only inches apart. "Don't pretend you haven't thought about it, Doctor," she said, lips curving into a seductive smile. "Don't pretend you haven't occasionally agonized before you push it all back down again. I mean...it's alright to look at her." She coyly smoothed down some creases on her outfit, fingers lingering seductively in various places. "So many parts! And never used. You could go right for a spin and still have that new car smell."

"Don't be crude," the Doctor warned.

"Don't change the subject. I mean, she is slim...and a little bit sultry - or would be, at least, if she'd let herself grow into anything and put in the effort. You've thought so too, even though you've quickly dashed away the thoughts. In those brief moments when you catch yourself looking at her. Don't pretend like you haven't. You've looked. And, worse, you've like what you saw. Just like you do right...now." She was so close to him he could feel her breath on his face.

"Stop doing that," he said.

"Does it ever bother you?" she asked, in a falsely innocent voice. "I mean her hair..." She ruffled it in a sexy sort of way and looked up at him. "It's the same color as a rose." She kissed him.

He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her off of him. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

It smiled seductively. "Getting a powerful hit of endorphins, apparently," it said breathlessly. "Haven't had a rush like that in ages!" She laid her hands flat against his chest. "And I can feel your hearts beating, so I know you felt it too! The song just keeps going and going...It's exhilarating!_ If we could just fuck and never have to touch...Life would be so perfect._" She looked at him closely. "Oh come on. Don't try to deny it. And anyway, this is what she wants."

"No it's not," the Doctor said. "She's told me it's not."

"Well she's a lousy liar," the Not-Ginger said. "She wanted that. She's about an even match for me. If she wanted to fight back, she would have. But she let me do that. I just gave her permission to act on the confusing feelings she has. And they are." She laughed, intoxicated. "Very complex, complicated, confusing feelings. So many different ones that swirl up with you around...So I might keep you to play with."

She kissed him again and this time he kissed her back. She pressed up tight against him and for a second he let himself forget that it wasn't right, wasn't her. But then something changed.

His eyes were closed, but he saw a flash of fire behind his eyelids. He felt the heat as if flames were licking his skin. Ginger pulled away sharply, and the image stopped.

"This is...not right," she said, putting a hand to her head shakily and closing her eyes. "This is not right."

"Ginger?" he asked, sure it was her breaking through.

"Play with me, but not with him." Ginger seemed to be talking to herself, but the Doctor knew she was addressing the parasite within her. "Let him go back. Don't make me do that, it isn't right."

"Ginger, what was that?" he asked, still hung up on the images he'd seen. He was convinced they'd come from inside her. They'd felt like unique projections from her subconscious.

"Stay away from me!" she said, putting out her hands to stop him coming near. "I'm negotiating! This isn't right."

"You can fight this," the Doctor tried.

"Stop talking!" she screamed, and instantly a ring of fire spread out around them, burning the hedges. "All you do is speak in lies! Shut. Up. Shut. Up. For once in your life!"

"Lies?" the Doctor asked, frightened now. "What did I-?"

"Mr. Platonic, always assuring me that this was on my terms and you weren't looking at me! Don't want to be looked at! Don't want to be noticed! Bad things happen to pretty girls!"

"Ginger, what's wrong-"

She was angrier than he'd ever seen her, seemingly coming apart at the seams. She seemed so broken, and nothing in the universe is more deadly than an angry broken girl.

"She doesn't want to let you go," she spat. "Thinks you're a prize. But I can see...all the people she's planted her lackeys in. All of them. Through the simulation. Most of them haven't woken up for years. All I have to do is choke off their psychic signal to the Mother and they'll shrivel and die. And without their brainpower to keep the simulation stable, you'll be able to find them and get them out."

"And then I'll come back for you, got it," he said.

She gave a scream of pain and doubled over. "She's really putting up a fight. Doesn't like this at all. Beings who are used to power love taking it from others but really fight tooth and nail to keep it."

The simulation was collapsing around them, shrinking to just include a small area around them. There was a sound of confused screaming as the people trapped inside woke up, and the Doctor moved quickly ushering everyone outside the perimeter. Then he returned to her.

"Ginger, are you okay?"

"It hurts, but I've been hurt worse than anything this bitch can throw at me."

"Ginger if this simulation collapses and you're still inside, it could fry your brain."

"I know."

"I'm not letting you turn off the life support machine. That's not happening." He reached for her.

"Don't you touch me!" she screamed. "I've got this!"

He cast his eyes around, helpless to know what to do. He wanted to help her, but she didn't want to be helped.

"Now!" she shouted, jumping quickly out of the maze just at the same time as him. It collapsed, leaving nothing but a patch of dry desert behind.

In the aftermath, Ginger and the Doctor just stood there glaring at each other, out of breath. She still looked unspeakably angry.

"Um, excuse me?" an old man the Doctor had pulled from the Maze said. "What's happening?"

The Doctor then explained the situation and set them back loose upon the universe to sue Apple and Tesla as they saw fit. But their nightmare seemed to be over.

"Long day, wasn't it?" the Doctor asked Ginger after everyone else had gone. "Bet you're feeling a bit tired."

"Yeah, take me back to London," she said, scathingly.

"Alright," he said, taking off his vortex manipulator and pressing a button on the bottom that he'd installed himself to summon the TARDIS. He had never intended to take the Vortex Manipulator back. "You want to get a milkshake? Or a hot chocolate, maybe?"

"No I don't want to get a hot chocolate!"

…

Sarah Jane had sent Alex ahead to get the TARDIS started while she scribbled a note explaining her absence. She ran out into the yard to meet her when the TARDIS doors slammed, trapping Alex inside. The next moment, the TARDIS had vanished.

Alex was shocked, as she hadn't done anything. She was curious when the TARDIS touched down, but heard shouting from outside so she opened a hatch on the control room floor and hid underneath just in time for the doors to open. She could hear everything, even if her view was blocked slightly.

"Alright, alright, I'm taking you back," the Doctor said, jumping to the controls. "You need some time to cool off. This was very traumatic for you and we can talk about it after you've had some rest."

"I don't want to talk to you about it!" Ginger said, so angry that she was shaking. "Don't want to talk to you or to anyone ever again! All of this was a mistake, a stupid mistake!"

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked, hurt. "I thought you wanted to come with me? Travel?"

"Well I was mind-controlled, wasn't I?" Ginger might as well have thrown molten lava in his face. "Didn't mean a word of it. That mad Queen thing just wanted your TARDIS so they could expand. And you believed it? Talk about delusional. I'm not some stupid human girl who orbits around you! I don't want to see you - any of you - ever again! Just leave me alone!"

The TARDIS landed back in London near a train station since the Doctor didn't really know where she lived and was sure she wasn't about to tell him now. She picked up her bags from the floor and took off into the cold night air. He followed close behind.

"It's snowing," Ginger said, keeping her back to him. And sure enough, it was.

"You're shaking like a leaf," he said to her.

"Of course it's fucking snowing," she spat, looking to the sky. "Bad things always happen when it snows."

"It's cold," he tried appealing to her one more time. "Come inside and we can just talk."

"I didn't trust you," Ginger said. "Looks like I was right not to. You're just like every other man. Not interested in actually knowing me."

"I am interested in knowing you," he replied, hurt and confused.

"It's like that song I've got stuck in my head…" She continued, still not looking at him. She sang it softly under her breath.

_"Cause the kiss is in the chemicals_

_Who needs a lover when you've got a new best friend?_

_What could be better than this alibi_

_This feeling that I wouldn't care if I was dead?_

_If you pinch me now I wouldn't flinch..."_

"I don't know that one," he said, shaking his head. "Ginger, I'm worried about you. Please talk to me."

She shook her head. "Don't want to talk. Want to be left alone. Don't contact me again."

And then she walked off into the train station without another word.


	23. Missing

The Doctor returned to the TARDIS with his mind racing. He had so many questions, but the most relevant one was: What the _hell _just happened? Ginger was typically a source of much confusion and consternation, but this was something different. Something fundamental had broken, something he had been so close to having.

_Trust._

_No, don't be stupid,_ he reasoned with himself. _She didn't trust you. She doesn't trust anyone._

_She trusted you. Just for a moment. She was going to come with you. She almost seemed happy. And this time there wasn't a concert or an event to distract her. It was real._

_That's ridiculous. She was being mind controlled when she said she would come with me. The parasite wanted on the TARDIS. She doesn't even like me._

_Well. Now she doesn't. Why'd you have to go and kiss her?_

_Woah, who said I kissed her? She kissed me._

_She was mind controlled and you knew it._

_I don't even like her...Do I?_

_Does it matter? She'll never speak to you again now. And she didn't exactly look stable when she left._

He blinked rapidly. _This is all my fault. Whatever happens to her now is my fault._

He cast his eyes around the TARDIS and his eyes landed on Alex, who had climbed out of the hatch in the floor and was leaning her palms against the TARDIS console. She appeared to be devastated.

"Doc...What did you _do?"_

He was at a loss. "How did you get in here?"

She crossed her arms, but her face was still a picture of concern. "You didn't think I was gonna let you die, did you? You left me the TARDIS. I was gonna come rescue ya."

He shook his head. "No matter what I do, you ladies are too headstrong to just let me die. You always bring the TARDIS back."

She gave him an incredulous look. "But I didn't. I hadn't even touched the controls when it started moving. So I hid, just in case it wasn't you." She swallowed hard. "Doc...that was _bad_."

He was struck again by the way she phrased things. "Not that _looked _bad, but that _was _bad. You're stating objective fact."

"What the hell happened?"

He sighed and rested his face in his hands for a moment before looking up. "Long story. It's over now."

"Yeah. That was pretty final. So you're not gonna tell me-"

"It's personal. Between us. I didn't mean to." That last sentence slipped out before he realized he was going to say it.

Alex could tell he was torn up. She walked around the control panel and hugged him. "You really scared me."

"I told you I'd be fine. And I am. I'm fine."

She wiped her eyes as she pulled away from him. "Liar." But she smiled. "Take me home?"

...

**5 days later: December 10th, 2015**

Alex could've sworn that when she left it had merely been raining, but it seemed that the temperature had dropped after nightfall so now the precipitation had turned to snow. She was chilled to the bone, icicles hanging from her brown hair as she tried to figure out what to do.

_Can't go back there,_ she thought, wrapping her arms around herself as if that would keep her teeth from chattering. _Nobody wants you there. Just keep moving._

She wished she still had a phone, but she didn't know who she'd call. Kira? No, she didn't want Kira to see her like this. Maybe she didn't want Kira to see her at all. After all, this had to be the real her. The her that was at her core. Small, insignificant...not worth anyone's time or effort.

She had this thought just as she was nearly to the outer doors of King's Cross station. She couldn't see Kira like this. A complete mess turning up with no warning in the middle of the night...This would make her think she was mad! And perhaps she was, she had good reason to be, in her opinion.

So she couldn't go back, but she couldn't go to Kira's either. What did that leave? She couldn't just stay where she was - she wasn't really familiar with this area of London. She checked her pockets out of desperation, knowing that there wasn't a bit of change left in there. She wouldn't've made it this far without the help of a kind older woman who had seen her shivering at the station back in Ealing and offered her money for a ticket. But now her luck ran out.

She walked down the street in the falling snow, utterly despondent. She had no clue what to do. 17, no money, nowhere to go, and only the clothes on her back. It seemed to be a totally hopeless situation.

She came to a stop on top of a bridge and leaned over the concrete barrier to look down at the icy black water below. She listened to some music on an iPod that Jack had given her as a gift.

_"You won't cry for my absence, I know_

_You forgot me long ago._

_Am I that unimportant?_

_Am I so insignificant?_

_Isn't something missing?_

_Isn't someone missing me?"_

She reached up to brush away a tear from her cheek, but found it had already frozen.

A beat up van pulled over to the side of the road next to her. A group of people her age were crowded inside and a blonde girl leaned out the passenger side window. "You alright?"

"Fine," she said, huffily. "What's it to you?"

"Just wondered if you wouldn't like a lift somewhere, is all," the girl said, awkwardly.

"No that's okay," she tried to say, but her teeth were chattering so hard that she felt they might shatter.

"You sure?" the girl asked. "We're only going as far as Camden Town, but we can drop you somewhere along the way."

That's when Alex got an idea. "Any of you lot got a bobby pin?"

…

As Alex watched the van drive away from the sidewalk, she had the thought that there was something different about this old theatre in the dead of night. Or maybe it was the dead of winter. Who was to say what had changed, really? Could be the way she felt about it. What had once been a safe escape a few months ago seemed like a foreign husk of itself.

_Technically I'm not wanted here either._

She shivered in the cold night air and thought she'd better get to work. She took the bobby pin from her pocket as she approached the door.

…

Ginger heard the unmistakable sound of someone trying to break in and descended from her booth to check it out. She armed herself only with a can of pepper spray and a baseball bat that she borrowed from backstage at night after everyone else left. She waited in the shadows next to the external door and as it swung open she lifted the bat to strike. "Not another step!" she said.

"Woah!" Alex said, raising her hands in shock. "Woah woah woah! It's just me!"

Ginger realized in time, but didn't put down the bat as she glowered at her, breathing heavily. "What the hell are you doing? Breaking in here in the dead of night? It's 2 in the morning!"

Alex didn't feel like answering questions. "I could ask you the same question," she said, defensively. "What are you doing here at 2 in the morning? Especially seeing as you told us you didn't do Christmas productions and are supposed to be on leave until next year."

Ginger was taken off guard and lowered the bat to her side. "They had a problem with my sound system and wanted me to fix it," she lied. "Was supposed to come in tomorrow but I had the key and couldn't sleep. So here I am."

The word _liar _entered Alex's head, but she dashed the thought away.

"Now let's talk about you," Ginger said. "Bobby pin method?"

"Yeah you know it?" Alex asked.

"I know of it," Ginger replied. "I've tried it, but my hands...I just have trouble making it work. Where'd you learn it?"

"Ran away a lot as a kid," Alex rolled her eyes and shrugged.

There was a pause while Ginger sized her up. "And that's what you've done now? You broke in here because you thought nobody would be here?"

"And you ruined everything," Alex said, sulking.

"I tend to do that, yeah," Ginger said. "It's a good plan, exactly what I...would've done. This place has central heating, better than most places I've squatted, even shelters."

"You've run away a lot too?" Alex asked.

"Never stopped," Ginger said, as much to herself as to Alex. She looked at her more closely. "You've been fighting."

"What?" Alex said, raising a hand covering in scraped knuckles up to a few cuts and bruises on her face. "No I haven't."

"You have," Ginger said. "Who's done this to you? You got 'em back, I hope?"

"Just some nasty girls," Alex said. "Always give me trouble. I showed em what's what."

Ginger hesitated, deep in deliberation with herself. "Come here," she said, motioning for her to follow her to the women's changing room.

They got there and Ginger turned on the low lights behind the mirror as she got a first aid kit from the wall and began bandaging Alex's hand. "Can't have you getting infected. So. You didn't start that fight, I hope?"

"Except by existing?" Alex asked, raising her eyebrows. "No."

Ginger nodded. "Good. Don't want you going around fighting."

"Why not?" Alex asked, really surprised now. "Thought you'd be all proud. Real scrappy punk rock gutter kid. Just like you're always telling me, we have to fight for what we believe in."

"I don't mean physically, though," Ginger said, delicately. "Not unless absolutely necessary. I used to fight with my fists and it was...addictive. In the worst way. Once you start taking out your aggression on others, it's hard to kick the habit. It's not cowardly to fight with words. The only time it's acceptable to fight with your fists is if you or someone else is in real danger. That's the only time."

"Alright," Alex said, slowly. "Spare me the lecture though. Not what I came here for."

Ginger barely suppressed a sigh as she finished her work and looked at Alex then. "Why did you come here? And be honest with me because it's 2 in the morning and you look frozen to death, so whether I help you depends on your answer."

"Help me?" Alex scoffed. "As if I need it."

"Don't you." This wasn't a question. Just a flat statement.

She hesitated before sighing. "Couldn't stay there," she admitted. "Time was up."

"What does that mean?"

Alex bit her lip. "I got in a fight at school. Mean girls kept calling me a scummy orphan girl."

Ginger nodded. "And you're more sensitive about that after everything that's happened lately."

"The head teacher called Sara Jane and I had to sit outside while they talked with a counselor. A lady from child services was talking to her."

"And saying?"

"I didn't hear much," Alex admitted. "I had to stay outside. Sarah Jane was wondering what got into me, and the lady said Sarah Jane's house wasn't a fit environment for me because I'm troubled and need extra care. Sarah Jane said that I'm a challenge sometimes and the other lady said she could make arrangements to take me into custody as soon as exams are over tomorrow. Didn't have to hear much after that, I've heard that before. Song's always the same."

"Which song is that?" Ginger asked.

Alex looked suddenly on the brink of tears, but angrily held them back. "You know, how I'm not a good fit. I talk too loud, get into too many fights, don't try enough...Bounced around to different homes a lot. Got adopted twice, actually. The first ones were killed by those Dalek things when there was that whole thing with the planets in the sky...That's how I got these." She pulled off one of her shoes to show the scars on the bottom of her feet. "I was running without shoes and got my feet all cut up by broken glass in the alley. Never go far from my shoes now."

"And what happened with the other family that adopted you?" Ginger asked.

Alex closed her eyes. "Didn't want me. Chucked me out. Would've ended up back at the Dumping Ground if Granna Edna hadn't already croaked."

"The Dumping Ground?" Ginger asked.

"The only halfway decent foster home I was ever in," she explained. "Granny Edna was the only grownup who was stable and kind and trying to help. So I ran off to Sarah Jane's instead, been there ever since. We talked once about emancipating me...but then never talked about it again."

"So you ran away again?"

"I guess. The girls cornered me again after I left, said I got them in trouble. I tried to fight back, but they broke my phone and took my money. Didn't see I had a whole lot of options, so I ended up here."

"Do you want me to try to contact someone for you-"

"Is that what you want to do?" Alex asked, picking up on the hesitation. "Really? Because I'll have you know that I know you and Doc are badly on the outs right now so even if I wanted him here there'd be no way you'd want to speak with him."

Ginger felt anger again at this. "What's he said about me?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Nothing," she said. "Absolutely refuses when I corner him. But I was hiding out on the TARDIS when you two were having that blowout last time and it looked bad. Figured you weren't coming round anymore."

"That's right," Ginger said. "Sorry about that."

She raised her eyebrows. "Don't apologize. I get the rules. You weren't my friend or mentor, you were just some lady. Not here to be a role model. So free to leave. You've been right since the beginning - never any good to get attached to people, let alone to trust them."

Ginger found this a startling statement from Alex, but barely showed it. "So what's your plan here?"

"Dunno," Alex shrugged. "I assure you, it was a cunning plan. Just...need somewhere to crash for the night. Figure things out."

"Are you...are you drunk?" Ginger asked, coming to that realization with no small amount of shock.

"What?" she replied. "No'm not."

"Yes you are," Ginger said, taking this as confirmation. "I was wasted a lot as a teen, know all the signs. And you, kid, smell like the kind of drinks that don't even taste good so what's the point even?" She sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as she thought of what to do. "Okay, alright." She opened her eyes. "You'll stay here then."

"What?" Alex asked.

"Just the one night, then you're out first thing," she said. "Can't have anyone finding you squatting." She thought up a lie on the spot. "Shame you can't come back to my place, but there's no room." She got up and walked to the door before realizing Alex wasn't following her. "Come on, it's non negotiable. Can't have you wandering around drunk in the dead of night in the winter when I know you don't carry a knife or pepper spray. I'll pull some dry clothes from wardrobe and put some tea on the hot plate."

…

Once Alex was in dry clothes, Ginger took her up to the loft with her. "I keep an extra air mattress up here for late nights," she explained when Alex looked at the inflatable mattress with surprise. "It was sort of turning into one of those tonight. You can kip there for the night."

Alex still thought this was odd, but was too tired to properly protest.

"So," Ginger began, after a moment's pause. "Why are you mad at the Doctor?" She said this in a way that made Alex think that Ginger wanted her to believe this was an offhand question but still felt loaded.

She sighed. "He's just like other grownups. Not trusting me to handle knowing things. Probably just gonna take off anyway. Not gonna let people leave me anymore. It's my turn to do the leaving."

"Can I just ask," Ginger began, tentatively. "How did you get the alcohol? Did you lift it from some shop? You're not exactly legal."

Alex hesitated before reaching into the pocket of her hoodie and retrieving the Doctor's psychic paper. "Thought I might need it," she justified. "I ran straight back to Sarah Jane's to grab a few things before I split, and he showed up. He saw I was upset..."

"Oh I see," Ginger replied. "The old hug and nick routine. A classic. Never worked for me in my pickpocketing days. Only works if someone really trusts you."

Alex felt a pang of guilt at this observation. She had indeed found him there when she got to Sarah Jane's, but she was holding back a few precious details.

_The Doctor chattered away incessantly upon her arrival, but she wasn't really hearing. Her mind was racing as it tried to grapple with the concept of a plan._

_"I'm ready," Alex said, cutting him off mid sentence._

_He had particular trouble cutting off a train of thought when it was gathering steam, so he was at the mercy of the sentence he was finishing. "-And possibly maybe catch a show, if you're up for it, but we should get you studying for exams..." His mouth ran out of words as his brain caught up with her own. "Hm? Ready for what?"_

_She lifted her chin and looked him square in the eye with the sort of stubbornness that only exists in youth. "Take me with you," she commanded._

_His brow furrowed. "Anywhere in particular you want to go?"_

_Was her smile forced or was she simply in the grip of a desperate thought? "Anywhere, yeah, that's the word. Anywhere. Sounds good."_

_His posture shifted and he stood taller as he peered into her face. "You alright, Alex?"_

_That same peculiar grin was still affixed on her face. "Never better, yeah, never better." She opened the kitchen door. "Let's go, yeah? Not a whole lot of time, is there? We've gotta make that ourselves." _

_She rushed into the garden and he became utterly convinced that something was wrong. "Wait, Alex, where are you going?" He ran after her to find that she'd thrown open the TARDIS doors and was standing directly between them with one hand on each door. She stood there drinking in the magnificence of the TARDIS interior. _

_"Yeah," she breathed. "Let's go."_

_She took the stairs two at a time and the Doctor followed behind her inside._

_"You closing those doors or what?" Alex asked, spotting his hesitation. "You'll let in a draft. Only joking, we just need to be going and you'll probably let out all the oxygen."_

_"Need to get going?" the Doctor repeated._

_"Yeah," she said absently, as she began to plot a course._

_"Need," he repeated again. "Why do you need to get going? And going where?"_

_"So many questions, Doctor," she chuckled. _

_"Alex," he said in a low voice. "What's going on? What's wrong?"_

_Her hands froze on the controls, but she didn't look up and her expression didn't waver. "Nothing's wrong," she said. "I'm just ready."_

_"So you said. But ready for what?"_

_She paused for one moment more before looking at him finally. "To be your companion, of course. I want to travel with you, to see the stars, to have adventures every day."_

_"Alex, you're 17."_

_"Don't treat me like I'm a kid! I'll be 18 in 3 months! Why not get started now?"_

_"Because you need to be a kid. You need to have a life with people your own age."_

_And with that simple statement, a sullen childlike fury rose up within her. "Are you saying I'm not good enough?"_

_"No," he insisted. "You're extraordinarily competent-"_

_"Not good enough to be Torchwood, not good enough to be your companion, not good enough for family," she said, her voice rising and trembling with every syllable. "So what am I good enough for?" She looked away and began plotting the course again, this time with more fury in her movements. "Well I'm not giving you a choice. You taught me to drive this thing, well now I'll drive her. We need to go now."_

_"Alex Mitchell, you stop that right now," he said sternly. "You're usually almost too mature for your age, but if you're going to act like an irrational child, then I'm going to treat you like one." It was a testament to their bond and the deep respect she had for him that she did stop before finally glowering at him. "Good, that's good, that's progress. Now, will you tell me what's going on?"_

_"It's time to go," she said. "Please."_

_He shook his head. "No. I don't think so. Not today."_

_She could see that he was serious, and, to her credit, the tears that she cried then weren't a complete act. She really was feeling this thoroughly despondent. But she realized that she had no other course. He wasn't going to take her with him and he'd be just as disappointed as Sarah Jane when she got back and told him that she'd been fighting. So she let him hug her and try to comfort her, then she stole the psychic paper. Upon completion of this task, she excused herself to her room to change out of her uniform, then climbed out the window. _

Alex found herself blinking back tears as she recalled this. She tried to steel herself and seem braver than she was. "He's just lucky that I didn't stead his TARDIS. I could've done, you know. I know how to fly it. He's just lucky."

...

Ginger waited with her feet dangling off center stage and a candle sitting by her side. It was nearly dawn when she heard the familiar sound of a sonic screwdriver at the same door Alex had broken into earlier and a skinny man came frantically running in.

"If you shout for her and wake her then I'll murder you myself," Ginger said, softly. He jumped. "I gave her soundproof headphones to help her sleep, but not gonna risk it."

"So she's here?" the Doctor asked. "We've all been looking everywhere, this was the last place I expected."

"She got here at about 2 am," Ginger replied. "Broke in through that door." She nodded to it. "Bobby pins, very clever. Don't know where a butch girl like her gets them, but the method is retro." She jumped off the stage and down to meet him. "So what is this? I told you to stay away from me on Saturday and so on Thursday you send the kid in to give you an excuse to ignore me?"

"What?" the Doctor said, actually properly annoyed by the accusation. "You realize just how profoundly self-centered that is? Thinking I'd do something purposely to hurt Alex just to get at you? I had no idea any of this was going to happen! And if I had, how could I possibly anticipate that you would be here?"

"Oh come off it, Doctor, I know you've figured out that I live here!" she hissed, struggling to keep from raising her voice. "You figured it out and decided to catch me out on it!"

This properly shocked him so he forgot to mock her for her self-centered attitude this time. "What? You live...here? In the theatre?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't try to act innocent. I never let you know where I lived and we always met here. Margot even called me the Phantom of the Opera the first time I met you! Yeah, that's right, she knows too. Walked in on me a few weeks after I started squatting here. To her credit, she never ratted me out. Just threw it in my face a lot."

"I...legitimately didn't know," he said, concerned now. "I thought maybe you were just protective of your space or something. Probably had good reasons for not wanting to let people in. But you...actually live here?"

There was a short pause while Ginger realized he was serious. "You really didn't know. Oh my God, you didn't know." She bit her lip, looking a bit petrified by this admission. "Yeah, I mean, I guess I do. What, you thought I could afford rent in Camden? Post-Gentrification? You even asked me about that once so seeing you here now I...I thought you'd found me out."

But now it was starting to make sense. "The first time we met you made me Butterbeer with ingredients you just had lying around. Your mini-fridge always had milk in it even though you always told us you can't stand drinking milk. You carry food with you everywhere-"

"In my bags that I've been carrying around a lot lately," Ginger said. "Didn't you notice? I really don't work on Christmas shows because of...reasons. And that makes my living situations tense. Had to get my hands on a schedule of events here so I could be cleared out during all the times people would be here. Deflate the air mattress and stow it in my bag-"

"And go sit in the mall for a few hours even though you hate it there," he finished for her. "Ginger-"

"Don't you dare judge me," she said, uncomfortably. "I've squatted in worse places. Least I'm not actually homeless this time. I mean, technically I am, but I'm not outside. And I get to keep my wages. Punk rock anti-capitalist existence. Even lift some outfits from wardrobe from time to time so people don't know I only own about 10 outfits."

"But why?" he asked.

She hesitated, clearly debating whether she should admit this out loud. "Part of it was that living out of the motel got sort of expensive after the first year. It ate up a significant amount of my wages. So when I'd been here about 2 years I got given a key so I could let myself in if I needed and, well...Eventually sort of started figuring it would be cheaper for me to crash here. Because, well, you see...I'm not...strictly legal. Here, I mean. Sort of undocumented. Got advantages over other ones, of course, being a white girl who sounds like she's from here but...I still worry that if people check into my background then they'll send me back."

"Huh."

"What?"

"You always wanted to be an alien and in a way, you are. Still, not as cool as being an extraterrestrial-"

She rolled her eyes, unwilling to let him joke his way into her good graces. "I want you both out when she wakes up-"

"Ginger," he began.

"What?"

"Do you need help?" he asked. "You don't have to live like this, we can help you-"

She shook her head. "Don't need anyone's help. This is all under control."

"If you need somewhere to, as you say, 'crash'-"

"Don't push me," she snapped. "What position are you in to help me? Sending a young girl to my doorstep drunk in the middle of the night-"

"Drunk?" the Doctor asked, startled. "Alex doesn't drink."

"She did tonight."

"Where did she get it from?" the Doctor asked. "She's only 17!"

"I pulled this off her." Ginger reached into her pocket and retrieved the psychic paper. "Pulled the old hug and nick. You're real naive. But you're just lucky she didn't steal your TARDIS, you know. She could've easy."

The Doctor took the paper and looked at it with a deep look of concern. "Why would she do this? I don't understand."

"Because you lot are about to send her away, maybe?" Ginger replied, crossing her arms. He looked at her with some confusion. "Oh come on, Doctor, she heard Sarah Jane talking to social services. She knows."

"What? I didn't...I didn't personally talk to the lady from child services...Never mind." He looked like he was about to say something then thought better of it. "I want to see her."

"She's asleep-"

"Ginger, where is she?"

Ginger glared at him for a moment before she decided to answer. "And what are you going to do when you find her? Punish her for drinking? Turn her over to social services? She's nearly 18, she can do what she wants. Shouting at her and punishing her is not gonna solve anything."

The Doctor was thrown off by this. "I'm not going to punish her," he replied. "I just want to see her. Be sure she's safe and okay."

She was still glaring at him, but her expression mingled with confusion. "And you're not gonna shout?"

"Wouldn't cross my mind to," he replied.

She hesitated again. "Alright."

…

He knelt down beside her on the floor next to the air mattress. She was giving off the unmistakable odor of alcohol and her hair was matted to her head and held in place by her giant headphones which were blasting a continuous loop of old Evanescence demos. She was breathing slowly, clearly fast asleep, so he decided to take off the headphones and turn off the music to preserve her iPod's battery power. He felt a sense of deja vu doing this, as he had done the same thing for her on other occasions when she'd fall asleep in the TARDIS doing homework sometimes.

She stirred - evidently the sudden silence pulled her from sleep.

"Shhhh," the Doctor said, smoothing down her hair tenderly. "Shhh go back to sleep."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him blearily. "Doc?"

"Yeah, it's me, I'm here. Always here." He noted how she slurred her speech.

"Doc, I'm sorry I...I fucked it all up, I…" She started to cry.

"Shhh, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. We'll talk about it when you wake up."

"I stole your psychic paper and got beer and...it didn't even taste good, it just made me a little bit sick. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."

"I'm just glad you're safe. That's all that matters to me."

"But you're disappointed in me."

"I'm not," he said, softly. "I'm not at all. A bit worried. But not disappointed. What you did was reckless and it scared me. I'd like to understand why. Are you upset with me?"

"Yes," she said. "No. Not really. I thought I was but...I'm scared and it makes me want to run away. It's easier to run if I make you hate me. Please don't hate me. I changed my mind, please don't hate me."

"You're not making much sense," he replied, though he thought he understood.

"Sarah Jane is going to send me away," she said, voice breaking. "And it was stupid of me to get attached, I know. Always knew this would be temporary but I...forgot. For a moment. And now. And now it hurts. So I take it out on you too because I don't want to go, don't want to leave, but she's sending me away-"

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"I know about the social services lady."

"Oh." His hearts felt heavy hearing her talk like this. "Listen to me, everything is going to be alright. I promise you. You didn't hear what you thought you did, but you need to get rest. We'll talk in the morning."

"I'm sorry."

"For what, Alex?"

"For being me. I'm so so sorry." She reached out for his hand. "Please don't go, dad, please don't go."

He swallowed hard and squeezed her hand. "I'm here. Always here."

…

After she fell asleep, he excused himself.

"I need to go call Sarah Jane and Jack," he said to Ginger. "They need to know she's safe. We've been up all night looking."

He took off towards backstage so he'd have room to speak freely when Ginger stopped him in his tracks.

"You didn't punish her. You just talked."

He took a second to think of how to respond before he turned around. "She's my daughter. Or as near as I'm likely to get to a daughter. She's a good kid. Just a little mixed up. Hurt, confused, scared, a bit traumatized. Those aren't things you should punish a kid for."

He couldn't quite read the look on her face because so much was going on there.

…

"This is the place?" Sarah Jane whispered, taking a look around as they entered the theatre. "Why would she come here?"

"Because she feels safe here," Jack said. "It's neutral territory. Structure."

"Doctor," Sarah Jane said. "She's safe?"

"She's still sleeping," he said. "She had quite the adventure last night."

"Yes, and what exactly happened?" A severe looking older woman with bleach blonde hair had entered unnoticed. "I never stopped monitoring the situation. I must say, I have some major concerns about this child's welfare. Running off like this in the middle of a home visit and remaining missing all night…"

Ginger entered from the backstage area. She stopped when she saw the newcomer and crossed her arms suspiciously. "Who's this you've brought in here?"

"Liz Kinder," the newcomer said, moving forward with an outstretched hand. "Department of Child Services. I'm here to assess the situation involving Alexia."

Ginger looked at the extended hand as if it were something distasteful and elected not to shake it. "So you're the one who's trying to take Alex away?"

"I'm merely assessing the situation, which at the moment doesn't seem stable at all. And you are?"

Ginger ignored this too. "What's your jurisdiction here?"

"I'm sorry?" Miss Kinder was confused.

"What gives you the right to take her away?" Ginger pressed. "She's 17. When I was growing up the state would jump at the opportunity to offload another kid from the system. She's old enough to decide where she wants to be."

"Unfortunately just because she's cared for doesn't mean it's the optimal environment for a child."

"And dumping her back in foster care with complete strangers who have no reason to care for her would be?"

"As I understand it, Alex is supposed to be sitting exams this morning. Clearly that's not going to happen. What has she been getting up to when she should've been getting rest?"

The Doctor and Ginger exchanged a look. "That's none of your concern what she gets up to," Ginger said, stubbornly. "She's almost legal age. You're not even interested in what she has to say, you're just looking for a reason to snatch her."

"That's a good point," Miss Kinder said, retrieving a clipboard from her bag. "I'd like to interview her as soon as possible. Where can I find her?"

"She's sleeping," the Doctor said.

"We should get this over with," Miss Kinder insisted.

"Then we'll all go in with you," Jack replied.

"That won't be necessary-"

"She's going to feel all alone in there!" Jack replied. "She won't be comfortable around someone she doesn't know!"

"And you, sir?" Miss Kinder turned to him. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said, eyes flashing. "Her uncle."

Miss Kinder flipped through her files. "Uncle?" She raised her eyebrows. "It says in here that her parents had no siblings."

"I'm not a blood relative, no-"

"Ah yes. I've found you in my records. You are not relevant to this assessment at this time. Thank you, Mr Harkness. Now, I rather insist on speaking to her alone to get an objective voice on this situation. Where can I find her?"

Ginger stepped up to her, unblinking and with arms crossed. "I invoke sanctuary. This place is a sanctuary and you will not take her against her will."

Miss Kinder appeared surprised again. "Sanctuary? This is not a church. And I'm afraid that the more you try to intimidate me, the more you set my resolve."

…

The first thing Miss Kinder noticed was the strong scent of alcohol hanging off of Alex. She made a note of it as well as the fact that she seemed to have been sleeping on an air mattress in a public theatre.

"Alex?" Miss Kinder asked, gently shaking her awake. "Alex, you must wake up now."

Alex woke up and didn't immediately have her bearings on the situation. "Get off me!" She bolted from the bed over to the corner and looked at Miss Kinder suspiciously. "Who are you?"

"I'm Liz Kinder from the Department of Child Services. I'd just like to ask you a few questions."

Alex crossed her arms, furious. "I ain't answerin' any questions, lady. Don't know you."

"Have you been drinking, Alex?" She held her pen inches from her clipboard.

"What?"

"Alcoholic beverages, Alex."

"No."

Miss Kinder scribbled down liar on her clipboard.

"What's that you're writing?" Alex asked, trying unsuccessfully to see.

"Just my assessment," Miss Kinder replied. "Tell me, Alex, where did you get those marks on your face and hands? Has someone been hurting you?"

"What?" Alex raised a hand to her face. "No."

Miss Kinder nodded and made a note.

…

"That doesn't look like it's going to well, does it?" Sarah Jane asked, peering up towards the tech booth anxiously.

"Of course it won't." Ginger was pacing like a caged animal. "Alex is disoriented and doesn't know her. Perfect mix for disaster."

Then the side door opened again and what appeared to be an Asian pirate lady in her late 40s came running in.

"Am I too late?" she said, anxiously removing her pirate hat.

"Another one of yours, Doctor?" Ginger asked, getting annoyed at all these new people.

"Where's Alex?" the pirate asked.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Jack asked.

"No time for that," the pirate said. "It might already be too late! If Miss Kinder takes Alex-"

A bright blue flash emanated from the tech booth and they all turned towards it. Alex and Miss Kinder had disappeared.

"Alex!" Sarah Jane shouted frantically, rushing to the booth at once.

"I knew it, I'm too late! Well there's no time to lose! We've got to get a move on! No time to waste when time is at stake!"

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked.

"Doctor, you don't recognize me?" The pirate looked at him with a look of impatient disbelief. "Fair enough." She approached him, rolling up her sleeves to show him something on her heavily tattooed arm.

The Doctor was positively elated by whatever she showed him. He laughed and hugged her, momentarily forgetting everything. "Corsair! You're alive! I haven't seen you since-"

"Oh let's not talk war stories right now, Doctor," she grinned. "We haven't the time-"

"That's the same thing you said in Frivlon Sector and you still managed it then-"

Sarah Jane returned to them holding Alex's school bag. "She's gone," she confirmed.

"Alex has been kidnapped, Doctor," the Corsair reminded him. "Where's your TARDIS?"

…

They all leapt into the TARDIS because there was no time to lose. Ginger took Alex's schoolbag from Sarah Jane and began looking through it as if she'd find some kind of clue in there. The Doctor and the pirate went instantly to the controls.

"Doctor, you still haven't said who this woman is?" Sarah Jane said.

"Sarah Jane, don't you recognize me either?" the pirate replied with a sly grin. "Fair enough, I did look totally different."

"She's an old friend, Sarah Jane," the Doctor said. "Would you mind hopping on and helping us pilot this thing?" he asked her. She did so at once.

"They call me the Corsair," the pirate said. "We've met before, the two of us. How's Sky?"

"Sky?" Sarah Jane was startled. "She's doing well. Sitting exams today." Then she got back on track. "How have we met before when I'm sure I've never seen you before in my life?"

"The Corsair is a Time Lord," the Doctor explained.

The Corsair pretended to be offended. "Not _just _a Time Lord!" 

"That's practically her catch phrase, but she never says what she means by it," the Doctor said, fondly.

"Ah," Sarah Jane said, coming to an understanding. "You had a different face then?"

"And a parrot," the Corsair nodded somberly. "Miss that bird too."

The TARDIS landed and there was a pause. "You." Sarah Jane understood it all then. "You were the Shopkeeper. The one who brought me Sky."

"Guilty as charged," she tipped her hat. "And now I think it's time you found out why."

"Why?" Sarah Jane asked. "I thought you said it was because she needed to be kept safe."

"It was, yes," the Corsair admitted. "Sky was the perfect addition to your little family. But I had much grander plans that needed to be put into action. Plans that involved miss Alexia Mitchell which couldn't be achieved without placing Sky just so. Perfectly in time and space to work things just right."

"What do you mean plans?" Jack asked, angrily.

"Oh hello," the Corsair said, as if properly just noticing Jack. She looked him up and down as she approached. "And who's this?"

"Captain Jack Harkness," he replied, unable to stop himself from flirting back. More out of habit than anything else. Pretty girl flirts with you, you flirt back, that was his way of things.

"Captain." Corsair nodded. "We'll talk later."

"Corsair wastes no time getting to know the locals," the Doctor teased. "I remember you fraternizing with several of the Androgynous People of Hemlorn Monastery."

"What sort of plans?" Ginger asked, crossing her arms. "You said you had plans for Alex. She's just a kid."

The Corsair looked at Ginger as if just realizing who she was. "Oh. You're here."

Ginger blinked, offended that this stranger was taking that tone. "Yeah I'm bloody well here! You think you're going to stop me from making sure Alex wasn't kidnapped?"

"Thought you were gone, though," the Corsair said. "Done. Didn't you say that?"

"Have you been spying on me?" she was really angry now. "And yeah I'm still done. This is one last thing because it's Alex." She looked at the Doctor then. "Then I'm done for good."

"Good, that's good," the Corsair said. "I mean, I can't imagine you'll be much help, but if it gets you gone faster..."

Her jaw dropped. "What's that supposed to-?"

"No time for that now," the Doctor said. "I want to know what's going on. Where's Alex and what's going on here?"

The Corsair sighed. "It's a long story." She shot a sidelong glance at Ginger. "I can't tell you all of it right now. Only what I'm at liberty to discuss, since it's about time you know. You didn't really think it was a coincidence that one little girl could get to know all of you without any of you arranging it?"

"No," the Doctor admitted. "It always felt a little too perfect."

"Exactly. You've got to understand, Alex Mitchell was born into this life. I know that Jack tried to keep her out of it - yes, I know exactly who you are, Jack, I was just playing coy - but that wouldn't've been in her - or any of your - best interest."

"Explain," said Jack.

"First thing you've got to understand is that there are forces in this universe that are specifically conspiring around you, Doctor."

"Well, not surprising, but what's that got to do with anything?" the Doctor asked.

"Because there is someone out there that has been manipulating events specifically to bring you down, Doctor, and you'd best thank your lucky stars that I've been there to counter each move. This game of chess has lasted centuries and if Alex gets lost now then that would be very bad."

"Now wait just a damn minute," Ginger cut in. "Don't talk about Alex like she's just a pawn in some game!"

"She's not just a pawn," the Corsair countered. "But in a way she is one of the pawns at play right now. Now isn't the time to talk about the others. If all goes according to plan, there will be no need to get into that. Tricky business, that."

"Tricky business?" the Doctor asked. Then he understood. "The Trickster."

Jack stopped in his tracks. "What does this have to do with the Trickster?"

"We have to get Alex back. She's the greatest weapon we have against the Trickster."

"Wait just a minute," Jack said. "What are you _talking _about? She's seventeen! I've met the Trickster's Brigade and she should have nothing to do with them."

"It's not up to you."

"She's not a weapon," Sarah Jane said. "She's just a little girl."

"And the Trickster's been handled, at least for now," the Doctor interjected. "I neutralized his weapon."

The Corsair was getting impatient. "It's no sense trying to argue with you about this - all you need to know is the Trickster is still out there. He put his pawn into play first, but I caught wind of it and took a look at the way events could be and decided to do a little tweaking of my own. My approach was much more subtle. Young Alex was already an orphan and Jack had decided to put her into the system. I saw who she could be with a little help, and arranged for Sarah Jane to get Sky at the perfect time for Sky to befriend Alex. Alex then was introduced to the Doctor."

"But why?" the Doctor asked. "What purpose could that possibly serve?"

"You need a moderating influence, Doctor," she replied. "Something to anchor you to this reality. This is a crucial juncture in your life. You have very important decisions to make and my opponent has made it clear that he wishes to steer you off the path. But Alex keeps you grounded, level-headed. You will make the right decision because she enables you to do so. But we've got to get a move on and save her before this was all for nothing. Now come over here and help me trace this signal."

The Doctor obliged, but his eyes fell on Ginger. She was reading something. "What have you got there?"

"Alex's diary, it looks like," Ginger said, flipping through it.

"Ginger, put that down-" Sarah Jane protested.

The Doctor held up a hand. "You can read it?" the Doctor asked her.

"Of course I can. It's in English. In case you've forgotten, that's _one _of the languages I'm fluent in."

"You shouldn't be able to read it. It's psychically locked to Alex."

Jack peered over Ginger's shoulder. "It looks blank to me."

"Of course it does," the Corsair said, exasperatedly. "Now can we _please _stop obsessing over Ginger's ability to read it? She's not that impressive."

"You don't sound surprised," the Doctor frowned at her.

"I just think we have bigger Babel Fish to fry."

"You should stop reading that," Sarah Jane insisted. "It's her private thoughts."

Ginger nodded. "Some of it, maybe. But it doesn't read that much like a diary. It's a storybook. She's been writing stories about our adventures, she's just changed our names."

"She's _what_?" the Doctor asked.

"_Later, _Doctor," the Corsair said, impatiently.

…

Alex didn't like it here.

From what she'd been told, she'd been teleported to a spacecraft hovering outside the galaxy. It was cold, gray, and impersonal. No televisions or movies or enjoyable activities. She'd been told this was because the station was a holding facility for children until they could find them adequate caregivers. Alex was the oldest kid by a mile - most were 12 or younger.

"Nobody ever leaves here," a 9 year old boy told her.

"No? Why not?" Alex asked.

"Because they can't ever find anyone good enough to take us," he replied.

"That's not true," an even younger girl said. "Every once in a while someone gets to go. But they have to truly believe in Shlaus for Shlaus to find them a forever home."

Alex felt very protective of these younger kids. They were here scared and all alone. Miss Kinder was no help - saying she was too busy to answer questions. Insisted all questions should be given to the god she served - a celestial being called Shlaus.

"Yeah…" Alex said, not buying that. "I'm not religious though."

"That's part of the criteria for why you were selected," Miss Kinder said. "No proper religious upbringing. It will be remedied. You must have faith in something, child. The universe is cold and dark without it."

...

They all waited around while the Doctor and the Corsair attempted to get a lock on the transmat signal. 

"You'll like this bit, Doc," Ginger said. "Real sappy. Just your style."

"I know it's futile asking you to shut up," said the Corsair through gritted teeth. 

"Alex changed all our names," Ginger persisted. "She called me 'Robin', which I guess I can live with. But she's calling herself Sam. Short for Samantha. I'll tell you, she's taken some liberties. Very misguided build-up and foreshadowing for you and I, Doc. I'd be disturbed if I didn't know there wasn't a chance in hell. But I digress."

"Often," the Corsair said under her breath. "Does this pontification have a point, Polonius?"

"I resent that," Ginger said. "But my point was, there's this whole sub-plot building up to this reveal, one I know never really happened in real life. In it, Mr Smith - that's you, Doctor - reveals that he's secretly her birth father. He's been watching her from afar her entire life, trying to make her safe. A lot of this dialogue is pretty accurate, though as I've said there are a lot of liberties taken...I'm guessing you _didn't _tell her you're secretly her father?"

The Doctor frowned. "She did what?" He was so distracted that he came around and took the journal from Ginger. But the pages appeared blank to him. "Alright, I really don't understand this. It's still working, still psychically linked to Alex. So I can't read it. Why can you?"

"Well?" Ginger demanded. "Did you say that to her? Did you give her the TARDIS keys and tell her you're her father?"

"No I didn't. Well, I did. I gave her the keys and said she's the closest thing I have to a daughter. I don't know why she'd change it."

Ginger shrugged, not taking her eyes off him. "Maybe because it makes a better story?"

"I've got it!" the Corsair exclaimed.

"You found her?" Sarah Jane asked.

"I found the transport ship, yeah," the Corsair said. "Let's go get her back."

...

"This isn't fair," Ginger said, struggling to keep up pace with the Corsair who she could swear was deliberately trying to outpace her. "This isn't fair to Alex. Playing games with her life. She's just a kid, how's she supposed to teach a thousand year old alien how to be level-headed? Shouldn't he learn that himself?"

"Yeah, well, he needs connections to the world," the Corsair said, shortly. "Good ones. Goes off the rails if he's alone for too long."

"But I don't see how she's supposed to be level-headed," Ginger insisted. "She's not level right now! Running away, drinking, fighting, stealing, breaking in places! Sounds a bit-"

"Like you, you mean?" the Corsair said pointedly, stopping and whipping around to face her.

Ginger floundered, offended but not being sure how to respond. "Well...yeah. But that's not the point!"

"That's precisely the point!" Corsair said. "She's a good kid. She might have some troubling tendencies, but that's to be expected growing up like she did. But you come around influencing things and...well, now she's turning into you. Is that really what you want from her? To become bitter and angry the way you did? To lash out at the world and trust no one? Because that's the track she's heading on, and I won't give you all the blame but you've done quite enough to set her astray. You corrupted an Alex. That sets you in a category all your own."

Ginger felt a sinking in her stomach as she realized the truth of this, but decided against showing it. She didn't even understand half of what the Corsair was saying anyway. "Why do you hate me so much?" she demanded. "Usually I have to have done something to someone to turn them against me, but you've not liked me from the minute we met."

"I don't hate you," the Corsair said. "I just know you. I know who you are and where you're from and what you're capable of. And I pity you."

This stopped her. "You can't know. That's not possible." Then she got angry. "You can't tell them. If you know so much, you can't tell them."

"They don't need to know everything," the Corsair replied. "As long as you do what you said you were going to do and stay away."

…

"You've made a huge mistake," Alex said to Miss Kinder. "You've got to let me go home."

"Home?" Miss Kinder looked quite perplexed by the notion. "How can you have a notion of that, child? Your upbringing was tumultuous and without stability. And your running away last night indicates troubles at home, as do those marks on your face."

"I didn't get these from my home life!" Alex replied, angrily. "I got in a fight! It's nothing to do with them!"

"That's what all you children say. We're merely looking out for your welfare. You will be safe now. They can no longer reach you."

"They'll come for me, you'll see!"

"Will they?"

...

"We should all split up," the Doctor said. "Ginger, Sarah Jane, you're with me. Jack, you take the Corsair."

"My pleasure," Jack grinned.

But the Corsair nervously glanced at Ginger then back to the Doctor. "You sure about that, old friend?"

"I think this will work nicely," the Doctor replied. "I need to focus on Alex, and you and I have never been anything but distractions to each other. Plus, I owe you one. Consider this me being your wing man."

The Corsair grinned. "You know me so well."

"Too well," the Doctor couldn't help but smile back.

But the Corsair looked concerned again. "But what about her?"

Ginger rolled her eyes. "I'm not thrilled, but I want this over with. Let's get on with it."

…

"So," Jack said. "I'm getting the sense that you don't like Ginger very much."

The Corsair sighed heavily. "Is this really the time?"

"I'm only asking," said Jack. "What did she do to piss you off? You shouldn't take it so personally, she's just like that-"

The Corsair looked at him strangely. "Wait, you like her?"

Jack shrugged. "We're friends."

The Corsair was so confused. "That's never happened before. I'll have to run more simulations to determine what that means. A Jack and a Ginger...being _friends_....You're not just travelling with them to supervise Alex? That _is _weird. This whole universe is...It's all off-kilter."

"So what did she do, then?" Jack asked. "Ginger, I mean."

"A lot of things," she replied, vaguely. "It's not so much what she's done as what I know she will do, given the right circumstances. The trouble is that these are _new _circumstances...Things are all off track. I thought she was going to stay away?"

"Stay away?" he asked. "Oh. You mean from the Doctor? Yeah, that's what we all thought. But it didn't last."

"I suppose it wouldn't," the Corsair said, darkly. "A Ginger can never stay away. She'll just drag us all to hell."

"But it bothers you that she's still around him? Because I'd normally take that as jealousy...except you almost sound scared. What happens if Ginger stays with him?"

She hesitated. "I shouldn't say. Whenever I say too much it just ends up making it come true."

"But it _is _bad if Ginger stays with him?"

"The problem isn't that Ginger stays with him. The problem is that the Doctor can't help himself. If she asks him to stay, then he'll stay. Whether or not it's good for him or her or anyone else. Even if he's falling apart or losing his mind...He'll stay with her until the end of the universe."

"Well it's a good thing that she hasn't asked him to stay."

She could tell that he wasn't taking it seriously. "She will. She always does."

...

The Doctor and Ginger managed to find a surveillance room and tracked Alex. It was trickier than they would've thought to get to her and they ended up being caught by security.

"Doctor," Miss Kinder said. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you after all this time."

"All this time?" the Doctor asked. "What do you mean? It's been hours at most."

"Loss of time," Miss Kinder tsked. "Not a sign of competence."

"What are you on about?" Ginger snapped, struggling.

"It's been more than a week since I liberated Alex."

…

Alex had tried to hold on to hope for as long as she could, but every day it got harder. She'd tried to escape numerous times - making a break for escape pods and the like - but all to no avail. And now it seemed unlikely that the Doctor - or anyone else - would come for her.

_He would have by now if he wanted to,_ she reasoned._ He's capable of it. So no use holding on to hope._

Realizing this was a crushing blow to her. She was here, powerless, unable to escape. Nobody was coming for her. She was alone.

"No you're not," that same little girl, Alivie, said to her. "Shlaus is watching out for us. If you believe, he'll find you a forever home."

She remembered when it was easy to believe in a forever home. That was before she grew up.

"I'm not much for faith myself," she said. "Just leads to disappointment. No use in it."

"But if you don't have faith," Alivie said. "Then how will you survive the darkness?"

...

The Doctor was horrified to realize that yet again he'd overshot in his calculations on the TARDIS, but that was not going to stop him from freeing Alex and the other kids.

"What gives you the right to take these children?" Ginger demanded yet again. "You've got false credentials from Earth and go around taking human children for what, exactly?"

"I serve the god Shlaus," Miss Kinder replied. "He has blessed me with the knowledge of worthy children throughout the universe who require our help. Abused, neglected, abandoned children. I save them and he blesses us with good fortune."

"Shlaus?" the Doctor asked. "The name sounds familiar."

…

"Shlaus," the Doctor said, looking upon the great skeletal being on the other side of the surveillance monitor with a sudden understanding. "As in Shlaustus. You're one of the Trickster's Brigade."

"Don't let his appearance deceive you!" Miss Kinder shouted, with just the barest trace of doubt in her voice now. "He's a benevolent god! Concerned only with protecting-"

"He protects nothing!" the Doctor shouted back. "He preys on the innocent and the weak by breaking them down! He feeds equally on lack of faith and faith in him!"

"I see," Ginger said. "Because faith in the wrong thing is just as bad as faith in nothing!"

"Exactly! But if he's manifested," the Doctor said, nervously. "We have to get those children out immediately."

..

Miss Kinder really had thought she was doing the right thing in removing those children. She hadn't known that those children who believed the most in Shlaus were harvested by him and consumed. She'd assumed he'd given them to good homes. She was shattered to discover the truth.

"You've preyed on me my whole life! Used me!"

"How do we kill it?" Sarah Jane asked, looking nervously at Shlaustus, who was easily 20 feet taller than they were.

"Well the first way is by a loss of faith in him!" the Doctor shouted back.

Ginger looked at the group of crying children and the angry Miss Kinder. "Think that's done. So why isn't he gone?"

"Because there is still enough lack of faith in this room to sustain him indefinitely," the Doctor said, gravely.

"This is why religion is stupid!" Ginger fumed. "All these little catches! He wins by default! Damned if we believe, damned if we don't! Fucking loopholes!"

"Miss Kinder, get these children to the escape pods and meet us at these coordinates!" he shouted.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Taking away his source of food."

Miss Kinder did that, yet Shlaustus remained sustained. He roared and reached out with a claw to snatch up Alex. She didn't even bother struggling.

"It is of no consequence if you take the other children," Shlaustus boomed. "This one is hopeless enough to keep me sustained indefinitely."

"Oh I see," Ginger said, bitterly. "Like a fucking Thesulac demon. Keep her isolated and just feed."

"That's not going to happen," the Doctor said, eyes flashing. "You let her go."

Shlaustus laughed. "I will not."

"It's okay, Doctor," Alex said, softly. "You can let go now."

"What?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"Your obligation to me is released," she replied. "You came here to save me and I'm telling you it's okay if I don't make it out. You don't have to pretend anymore."

"Alex, we care about you," the Doctor said. "Ginger isn't even speaking to me and she's here trying to get you back to safety. We didn't mean to take so long."

"But you did."

"I don't understand this!" Sarah Jane was frustrated. "Shlaustus is meant to survive off a profound lack of faith. Not any mere neutral state of being, but a real low. You were never religious, so what have you lost faith in?"

"You, Doctor," Shlaustus said, gleefully.

"No," Ginger said, catching on. "Not that. Or, at least, that's not all." She stepped forward. "You still believe in him, deep down. You're just thinking that it's no good hoping and wishing for things because they let you down. I'm sorry I told you that. It's not true. Sometimes you need to hold on to what you want, because then you can work towards getting it. So it's not the Doctor you lost faith in. It's yourself."

"When I looked in that mirror in the Fun House, I wasn't even there," Alex said, choking on tears. "I'm nothing! Nobody ever notices me because I don't matter at all! They're promising me that if I can give in and believe in something for once in my life that I'll matter!"

"Listen to me, listen! You're here, you're real, you're solid. You can have faith in yourself! People think that faith has to be in something invisible and unsubstantiated, but believing in yourself is much more powerful than any of that! You don't have to believe in a higher power, but you should believe in your power! Your power is stronger than any so-called god!"

"I don't have power, I never have!" she shouted, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes you do," the Doctor said. "You always have. I believe in you, Alexia Mitchell."

"I'm always the one who gets caught and manipulated!" she cried. "I just have a weak mind! I'm a liability! More trouble than I'm worth!"

"You are not weak!" Ginger said, shocked at the implication. "You had your mind violated! It's the most horrible feeling imaginable!"

"You don't know! Things like this never happen to you!"

"It did last time," Ginger said, seriously. "I gave in. That buzzing sound...it was so intense. I felt like my head was going to split open. And I was seeing...just horrible things. I didn't want to be me anymore. Thought it would be easier to let something else be me. But that's because I never had what you have. You have a family, a forever home. People who care about you and would cross the universe to save your life. Nobody ever did that for me."

"You just came because you had to-"

"No, Alex," Sarah Jane said. "We came because we love you. I feel the same way about you that I do about Luke and Sky. I've watched you grow from a small angry thing with nothing to her name into a brave young woman."

"I heard you!" Alex shouted. "I heard you talking to Miss Kinder about your options!"

"You didn't hear the rest of the conversation!" Sarah Jane said. "I told her I wanted to keep you!"

This statement was so impossible that she briefly couldn't summon up a response. "You did?"

"The truth is that I've wanted to adopt you for years now. I told you that you could leave if you wanted and get emancipated and I was so afraid that if I reminded you of the fact that you weren't one of mine then you'd run off. I wanted to formally adopt you into - what was it Sky called it - our little patchwork family. But I wanted to ask you first if you wanted that. I wouldn't want you to feel like you had to! It's your choice!"

"You want to adopt me?" Alex asked, unable to believe her ears. She'd fantasized about this many times, but never thought it would come true. "Me? But...why would you think I'd say no?"

"Because you're almost an adult," Sarah Jane said, nervously. "You've always been so independent - adamant that you needed no one's help. I worried you'd be insulted. You're not a child anymore, after all."

"No I'm not," Alex laughed in disbelief. "Not a child and not insulted. This is...all I've ever wanted. Yes. Yes I would love it if you'd adopt me. But why me?"

"You're brilliant. Smart, brave, and kind. The truth is, sometimes you're more like me than Luke and Sky are. I understand you. You've saved our lives before - you're one of the bravest people I've ever met. There's no reason for you to think so lowly of yourself. You've just got to believe that you can do it and fight."

She sniffled, a bit of her familiar anger starting to return to her. "Yeah. You're right."

…

Alex fought back, reducing Shlaustus to just a tiny thing which could be easily squashed.

"Hell yeah!" Ginger cheered. "You know what this reminds me of?"

"Is this another TV reference?" Alex asked.

"No, I'm back to music again," she said. "Losing His Touch by Jack Off Jill."

"Right!" the Doctor said. "I'd forgotten about that one. It _definitely _applies_."_

"You're rotten to the core..." Ginger sang under her breath. "Don't believe in you anymore."

The ship shuddered, and alarms started ringing.

"Everyone back to the TARDIS!" the Doctor shouted. "I think Shlaustus fatally damaged the life support systems!"

"What about-?" Ginger began, thinking of the Corsair and Jack.

"I'm on it!" the Doctor assured her.

"Doctor!" Alex shouted, as the floor gave out beneath her and she tumbled down onto the floor below. The debris sealed it up above her, making it impossible to climb back up.

"Alex!" the Doctor shouted, terrified. "Alex, are you alright?"

"Fine!" she shouted back. "Just get the TARDIS and come back for me, okay?"

"We're not leaving you-" Sarah Jane began.

"What's happening?" Jack asked, running to greet them with the Corsair not far behind.

"Alex is trapped down on the lower floor," the Doctor explained. "And this ship will crash any minute. Alex, can you tell me what you see down there?"

"I'm, uh, in the surveillance room, I think," she replied. "There are all sorts of blinking monitors."

The Corsair aighed. "I'll grab her and meet you back at the TARDIS."

"How will you-" Ginger began, but she disappeared into thin air.

…

Alex and the Corsair made it back to the TARDIS before the others did.

"How?" Alex asked. "How did you...You just made us disappear into thin air? I've never seen anything that could do that...Except the masked lady." She paused, picking up on the expression on the Corsair's face. "That's...you?"

"Yeah," the Corsair said.

"Why reveal yourself now?"

"You were in trouble. There was no time to waste."

"Where are the others?" Alex asked, worried that they weren't back. "Shouldn't they be back by now?"

"They'll arrive any second," the Corsair replied, soothingly. "But before they do, I want to talk to you."

"What about?" she asked, suspiciously. "Don't even know you."

"That's right, you don't," Corsair said, seriously. "I'm an old friend of the Doctor's and if you're very lucky you won't have to ever see me again. I need to talk to you about your Uncle Jack."

Alex crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. Well thanks but no thanks. Don't really need anyone's two cents on that."

"He came all the way here from Wales because he was concerned about you," the Corsair insisted. "I've observed you all from afar and I have a rough idea what he's like. He wasn't like himself tonight. He was so single-minded and focused on finding you that there was nothing else that mattered to him."

"Yeah, well, he still lied to me," Alex huffed. 

"You don't know the whole story," the Corsair said. "There is so much I can't tell you, but I can show you this." He handed over a small flash drive. "If you want to know what really happened to your parents, it's on here. It's your choice. You can go plug it in right now if you like."

Alex held it in her hand as if it might explode. "What about the others?" she asked.

"They'll be here shortly. I'll wait here. If you want to know the truth, this is a good time to do it. Just before you decide not to forgive him, you should know what he was trying to protect you from."

She hesitated before running off back into the TARDIS to go plug in the flash drive.

As soon as she was out of sight, the others came running in.

"Where is she, where's Alex?" Jack asked, immediately.

"She's run off into the TARDIS, don't know what for," the Corsair said, in a way that made them all think she knew exactly what for. "She's fine, now can we get all hands on deck to pilot this machine out of here?"

"I think I'll just stay out of the way," Ginger said, as the others took to the controls. "I'm not so good with large machinery. Bit clumsy, me. Might break it."

"Yes, Ginger, I think it's best you stay as far away as possible," Corsair said in a pointed way that she didn't quite understand.

…

The little thumb drive contained video records of Alex's mum and dad. They were Torchwood agents - which was code for "huge nerds" - so some of it was fairly clinical case reporting. Until it became her mum's pregnancy diaries which soon morphed into videos of times she couldn't remember with her as a small child. They all looked so happy, but Alex couldn't recognize them at all.

Jack walked in behind Alex, his heart dropping as he saw those faces on the screen for the first time in over a decade.

"I'm sorry, Alex," he said to her. "I should've told you. I just..I didn't know how."

"We look so happy," Alex said, crying softly. "I don't remember."

Alex's mum came on screen holding something she called "the Red Key".

"That's him?" Alex pointed to a man on screen. "The other Alex?"

Jack nodded. "He wasn't a bad man. It wasn't his fault. Now that I've run Torchwood myself, I understand the pressure a lot more. The Red Key drives people mad. He thought he was protecting them all."

"Why?" she asked, turning to face him. "Why couldn't you just tell me all this?"

"Because I didn't know how," he said, simply. "You asked me on your second birthday if your parents were going to be home soon and I just...I couldn't make you give up on that hope. I tried to say something so many times, but when you were that young it was easier to go along with what you thought happened. You thought they were just missing - just out there saving the world on a mission. That was so much truer to their memory than what actually happened. That was a better world for little Alex to live in. But the lie always hurt, so I left a lot. Which was wrong of me, I know. I never did it lightly. Do you remember what you said to me the first time I left you at Granny Edna's? You said, 'Uncle Jack, are you leaving to go bring back my mum and dad?' And you were so little, so full of hope...How could I tell you that they'd never come back?"

"I still don't understand why you'd come back at all." Alex's voice broke. "If it was so hard, then why?"

"I took you in because your parents asked me to," he said. "But I actually care about you. I worried about you all the time when I was away. Alex, I don't know if now is the right time to tell you this, but...before they died, your parents asked me to look out for you. Technically I'm not your uncle. I'm your godfather. But I understand if you hate me after all this. I would too."

Alex swallowed hard, trying her best not to cry as she rushed forward and hugged her godfather. "It's not your fault. I'm so sorry, Uncle Jack. I missed you so much. I always miss you so much."

"I won't go away again," Jack said, squeezing her tight. "I promise."

At that moment, everyone else came in to find them.

"I'm so sorry," Alex said, pulling back to look at them. "You guys, I'm so sorry, I got so mixed up."

"That's alright," Ginger shrugged. "I've done worse at your age."

"As have I," the Doctor cut in.

"Me as well," said Jack.

"I can definitely agree that all of you did," Corsair added her two cents.

…

Miss Kinder apologized for all the wrong she did, but maintained that some of the children had been taken from properly abusive and neglectful environments. She hesitated to just throw them back in the system.

"I'll go check on them from time to time," Alex promised. "I'll make sure they're doing well."

When they got back to Bannerman Road, Luke and Sky rushed forward to anxiously hug Alex. They'd been beside themselves with worry after they'd realized she'd run away.

"Why don't you take her inside for some tea?" Sarah Jane suggested. "The grown ups just need a moment to talk."

"We have to tell her," Jack said. "It's not fair to her that she doesn't know she's being used as a pawn. She has a right to know."

"I agree with Jack," Ginger said. "There is no way we're letting her be used like this. Not as some kind of weapon."

"I agree," the Doctor said. "At least that she should be kept out of this. I'm not going to let her be used. But I don't think we should tell her."

"Why not?" Ginger snapped.

"I mean...it's like that time we went back to the Shirtwaist protests," the Doctor said. "You remember what you said to me while we were there? You said that we shouldn't tell Alex that the men we were protesting got off scot free. Said it might reinforce her thinking that protest is useless. Alex is fragile right now. Maybe the last thing she needs is to think that she doesn't have a choice. Isn't it better to give the illusion of free will? Maybe if we don't tell her that she's supposed to be a weapon, then we can protect her from that fate. Maybe...she can still have a chance to be a child."

"I hate to say it, but I agree with the Doctor," Sarah Jane said. "We can tell her when she's older. When she's ready. But not now."

"I don't like it," Jack said. "I won't be a part of lying to her. Not anymore."

"You don't have to," the Corsair said. "If she asks you directly, you can tell her the full truth. But there's no sense in upsetting her further right now."

"You're only saying that because you have some sick little plan that hinges on her!" Ginger snapped, unable to believe they would all go along with this. "You don't care about her, you just want to win some game!"

"I'll have to think about this," Jack said heavily. "I'm not on board with hiding this from her forever. But in time, when she's feeling better..."

Ginger's jaw dropped. "You're all seriously thinking about going along with this?"

"It's not a decision I take lightly," the Doctor said.

"Well fine," Ginger huffed. "It isn't my business anyway. Alex is back, she's safe, so I'm going home." She realized she didn't have her bag or any of her money on her. "Doctor, give me a ride home." She turned to go back to the TARDIS.

"Ginger?" Sarah Jane said. Ginger stopped in her tracks and turned back to face her. "I just wanted to say thank you. For helping Alex. I hate to think of what could've happened if..."

"I didn't do anything," Ginger said. "Really. The Doctor's been right this whole time. I've been influencing her way too much. I'm just making her worse."

…

The TARDIS landed outside of the theatre in heavy snow. Without so much as a word to the Doctor, Ginger left the TARDIS. The Doctor followed her out into the cold.

"Won't you come visit for Christmas?" the Doctor asked. "I know you won't take me up on my offer to not live here, but at least come visit."

She stopped in her tracks, shivering. "Never been a big fan of Christmas, actually," she said, without turning around.

"What? You don't like Christmas?" He chuckled a bit. "Everyone likes Christmas!"

"Well I never have," she grumbled.

"Oh come on, you can drop the super-serious goth act," he teased. "I bet you liked it when you were a kid."

"Not sure I ever was one of those," she said, softly.

The Doctor took a second to figure out what to say next. "Well, you'll come round, at least? I don't like the idea of you out here all alone. Even if you won't let me find you somewhere better to live, at least I can make sure you're not alone on Christmas."

Ginger turned back to face him, livid. "What are you doing?"

"Making conversation," he said, as if that were obvious. "Trying to get you to come round for roast beast-"

"Why?" she demanded. "I told you to stay away from me. I was quite clear on that point, yet you don't listen."

"I listen." He sounded hurt now. "I just thought after today that things had gone back to the way things were."

"Is that what you thought?" Ginger scoffed bitterly. "This changes nothing! You think that this is some grand story where we get into a fight and then come back together over a common goal. Well it's not. You can't just fix things by giving a speech and working together!"

"But-"

"Open your eyes, Doctor! I'm no good for anybody! I don't know if you just really like solving puzzles and that's why you're so obsessed with me, but you're ignoring the fact that no matter what I do, I end up saying or doing the wrong thing!"

"No you don't! What you said back there, about believing in yourself-"

"Didn't apply to me! It was for Alex, because she's still young and has time to not harden up like I did! I'm a lost cause, so stop trying to save me! You can't fix something this broken, so just stop trying! We'd all be much better off without me around!"

"That's not true! Just...explain to me how I can fix this, how I can make this better."

"You can't! This isn't something where you can zip off in your little machine and make it all go away! You can do anything, bend time to your will, but leave me out of it! There has to be a line that can't be crossed, right? Well, this is it. Just leave me alone." She tried walking away again.

"Ginger, I know you're hurting. I'd like to help, to understand."

"Oh my God, what's your deal?" She turned back to him, eyes flashing and hands on her hips. "This is getting kind of ridiculous. Because it's not just me, is it? You've got a pattern going. And I don't mean with your obvious savior complex."

"Then what _do_ you mean?" he asked, nervously.

"I mean with the human girls, obviously," she practically snarled. "So you're some alien being, that's cool, that's whatever. But you're like a thousand years old! That's what you told me, right? So even at the end of a human's natural life-span, we wouldn't even be a quarter of your age! That's like...well, cradle robbing, is what that's like! So that makes me have to ask why! Because I've got a nice little theory for that, if you'd like to hear it. I think you're self-conscious, way deep down. And these silly little human girls keep looking up to you, giving you all this praise and adoration. It feels good, doesn't it? But you know if you start hanging out with anyone your own age then you'll look less impressive. So instead you go around plucking these fresh-faced young girls. Like Rose, for instance."

The name hit him like a slap in the face, but he was rising quickly to anger. "You don't know what you're talking about."

She raised her eyebrows. "Don't I? She was younger than me, wasn't she? Well that's not going to be me, you understand? I know better. I'm not so naive."

"I can't believe you would be so cruel."

She laughed, derisively. "You can't? You don't _know _me. I'm being cruel because I _am _cruel. That's just who I am. I'm surprised you haven't figured that out by now. I don't know what made you believe that I'm a good person, but I'm not."

"Being a good person isn't a core attribute. It's a conscious choice you make every day."

She grinned sardonically. "And just look at the choices I make!"

"So this is it? This is who you're choosing to be?"

"Looks like!"

"I don't believe that. You helped Alex today, you care so deeply about people-"

"I helped today because Alex was in trouble and I don't let little girls get hurt. Not anymore. But now I'm done. Don't come here again. Any of you. If I see you lot again, I'll tell Alex everything."

And she left him there, frozen in place with the snow swirling around him.


	24. Medication

Ginger hated this time of year with every fiber of her being.

She tried her best just to ignore it and go on with her business as usual, which wasn't as hard to do now that the theatre had finished its Christmas productions so she had it entirely to herself all through the day and night. She kept herself tucked away in the tech booth on her air mattress with a space heater next to her that she only turned on if it got too terribly cold. She needed to not raise suspicions with the power usage so she mostly used the power to charge her laptop and then immediately disconnected it when it was fully charged again. She kept her shoes and her fully packed bag right next to the bed in case she had to run for it quickly.

It wasn't so bad. It was quiet. The closest to peace she could conceptualize. She filled the space with music and TV shows and movies...pretty much any kind of media she could stream. Because if she let it get too quiet then she could hear herself think, which wasn't such a good thing this time of year.

That kind of thinking was what ultimately got her past the tiny pangs she felt in her chest the first time she reached for her iPod after leaving the Doctor. She'd closed her hands around the tiny blue box and remembered that he had been the one to give it to her in the first place. Her first instinct had been to want to throw it away - get it out of her sight. She didn't want to have to think about him. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She needed the little music device now, she was dependent on it to drown out her mind. She justified it in the end by saying that he hadn't gotten a chance to ask for it back, and anyway it was no take backs. It wasn't his, so she had a right to keep using it. She just had to sever it from its context.

She'd spent her life as an outsider so she was used to it - but this time of year reminded her of just how much of a freak she was. Not only because she wasn't Christian and didn't celebrate the holiday - she felt great sympathy for religious minorities in that respect - but because of how alone it made her feel. It was the little things. Children delighting in the way the cold air made their breath rise in clouds while she only felt the wind cutting through her like a memory...Really just everything about how happy everyone seemed to be. She'd seen what was on the other side of that happy excitement: perfectionism and stress. But for brief moments she'd catch humans looking happy together which was just...foreign to her. She didn't understand the concept of a family for one thing. For another, it seemed to her that she'd never once been a child. She couldn't think back to a time when she was naive and trusting and innocent. She'd always just been...this. Bitter. Broken. Other.

The week before Christmas treated Ginger about as well as it normally did, except this time it was measurably worse. Her nightmares were returning full force, and there was nothing she could do to make them go away. She stayed up late into the night, condemning herself to insomnia because it was better than facing the recurring dreams.

The corner shop was playing Christmas music, which didn't at all help the situation. This was exactly why she hadn't wanted to go out this time of year! The weather's terrible, everyone's too ready to criticize you for being unhappy, and the goddamn music is a crime against good art.

Ginger moved forward towards the instant noodles, trying to block out the sounds of corporately manufactured capitalist cheer with Modest Mouse on her headphones.

"_"I didn't go to work for a month_

_I didn't leave my bed for eight days straight_

_I haven't hung out with anyone_

_If I did, I'd have nothing to say_

_I didn't feel angry or depressed_

_I didn't feel anything at all_

_I didn't want to go to bed_

_And I didn't want to stay up late_

_When you're living your life, well, that's the price you'll pay."_

She observed a small family picking out some stocking stuffers. There was a little girl, not much older than 5, and she looked so very happy. Ginger felt a bit resentful, but not towards the girl for being happy. She resented herself for existing in this bubble where everyone's happy smiles were recycled into bitterness. She never felt more alien than she did in public during Christmas.

Her iPod chose that moment to die, and she was forced to hear the last few seconds of that obnoxious song that wanted it to be Christmas every day. _Sounds like my idea of a hell dimension_, Ginger thought. _I'd almost rather take Pylea._ She resolved to get out of this store as soon as possible.

She was at the checkout when Elvis started playing. She felt herself instantly tense up, and her breathing rose rapidly. Flashbacks started pouring into her brain as if she were an active experiencing a composite event, and she couldn't quite move for the vividness of the images.

"Oi! Lady!" People behind her were starting to get impatient. "You gonna move or what?" It was the mother of the child from before. "Hey, you deaf or something?" She made the mistake of trying to grab her arm when she didn't get a response.

Ginger was startled back into the present by the unexpected contact, but out of reflex she reached back and slapped the woman before elbowing her in the stomach and kicking her legs out from under her. This all took a matter of seconds, then Ginger was left standing as she slowly realized what she'd done.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, feeling the familiar signs of hyperventilation beginning. "I'm - I'm so sorry."

"What the hell, lady?" asked the teenager behind the counter. He looked stunned. "What the hell is your problem?"

"I...I don't know," she answered, the panic really starting to set in now. She didn't like how they were all staring at her. "I'm...I'm sorry." Then she ran.

"Hey lady, you forgot your noodles!"

She bit her lip to hold back tears as she emerged onto the street, but really needn't have bothered. Her eyes remained dry as ever.

_What's wrong with me?_ She demanded of herself. _Can't do anything right! Can't blend in, can't help but hurt people...Can't even cry. When's the last time you cried? Do you even remember letting yourself properly have an emotion that wasn't anger? There I go, doing the Emilie Autumn thing: 'She speaks in the third person so she can forget that she's me.' What's wrong with me?_

_I guess I'm just built that way_, another part of herself answered.

...

"I just found out my marks," Alex said, wrapping herself more snugly in a blanket as she sat on the sofa. "Got high marks on most everything, even was passable in math, surprisingly. Thanks for taking me back in the TARDIS so I could take my tests on time."

"Yeah, well," the Doctor said. "I knew you could do it if you were in the right mindset, and it was unfair for a misunderstanding to make you miss your tests." He crossed the room to sit next to her. " Speaking of...How are you doing, kiddo?"

"Fine," she replied, with the ghost of a fond smile. "Really. Much, much better."

"Are you sure?" he asked, after a moment's hesitation. "I mean...you've been through some pretty big T's lately."

She raised her eyebrows. "T's?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Like...traumas, you know? Big traumas. Isn't that what you kids say?"

She laughed, amused. "Well I've no bloomin' clue."

He laughed too, but in a more subdued way. "I just..." He began, tentatively. "I want to make sure you're taken care of. If you need to talk to anybody at all about what you've been through..."

She smiled, kindly. "And who would I talk to?"

"Well...Me. For starters. If you wanted to. Or you've got Jack or Sarah Jane or...Well, so many people. We can even get you a, y'know...real doctor, if you like."

She looked at him steadily for a moment before answering. "I'm just trying to get past it all, really. Move on with my life. Because I can have one now, right? No sense looking back. Gotta be a grown up now."

It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. "You're not still on that whole 'grown up' thing, are you? What would you want to be a grown up for?"

"Well, I mean...Isn't that what you want for me? Let go of the things holding me back. My inner child, all the frivolous nonsense. Look to the future."

"What gave you that impression?"

"Back in the Maze," she said, softly. "You said I had to let it go."

He felt his hearts breaking. "I didn't mean that. Alex, I didn't mean to let go of all the things that make you who you are. You need to keep hold of that inner child, not repress her. It's not childish to like the things you like and use them to cope, so long as you can balance them with your real life. What happened in the Maze...that was a classic example of a toxic coping mechanism. _That's _what you had to let go of. I know how difficult and painful that was for you." She looked away. "Which is why I'm so _very _proud of you." She looked back up at him. "Now you can begin to heal, and I don't know how you can do that without being entirely true to your inner child."

She smiled up at him, eyes watery. "Thanks, Doc."

She hugged him and he couldn't help but think that they were still keeping things from her. He felt guilty, but he didn't think now was the right time to bring it up. "Now, what did you want to do tonight?" he asked, pulling back. "We've established we're not doing grown-up things...Didn't you want to show me some, what do you call them, Pokie Mans?" He knew full well what they were called, but felt entitled to the joke.

She groaned. "Don't call them that," she replied, punching him on the arm. "Besides, I need a little time before I can see Skitties again."

"Ouch," he said, rubbing the spot where she'd jokingly punched him. "When did you get so butch?"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I'm revoking your talking privileges." She got up.

"Where are you-?"

"Revoked!" She held up a hand, laughing. "Alright, I'm gonna go fetch us a snack." She paused, like she was hovering on the edge of saying something. "You know, it's funny. The two of you. Never being able to properly say the word Pokemon."

"The two of who?"

"Well...you and Ginger, obviously. She always called them Pokechus." She'd obviously been trying to think of a way to bring this up for days, and pushed through even though she knew she shouldn't. "She's really...she's really not...coming back, is she?"

"Guess not," he said.

"Yeah," she smiled sadly at him, putting on a brave face. "I thought that seemed kind of final the other day. And are we...okay with that?"

"We kind of have to be," he shrugged, putting on a brave face of his own. "She's in some kind of pain and when someone's hurting like that...it's your responsibility to not add to it, as much as possible. She asked to be left alone. So we leave her alone."

She shook her head. "I dunno, Doc. I just...I have a bad feeling. She was _not _alright last time we saw her."

"I know. But there's nothing left to do."

...

It was now three days until Christmas. Ginger had busied herself the last few days by hibernating in her room with nothing but old movies and some music. She was trying to marathon everything she'd ever loved. It was important to do this now while she still had time.

As the days dragged on, she let parts of herself slip away. Her hair wasn't just a mess anymore - it was actively trying to give Medusa a run for her money. She had no need for makeup when there wasn't a reason to waste it. She didn't even bother to get out of her pajamas anymore. Nothing had consequence. She had to let it all go.

She decided to take a page out of Alex's recent playbook: even though she didn't like the taste of alcohol, she'd gone to the liquor store store with her fake ID and gotten herself a few bottles of rum. She'd added it to her butterbeer and hadn't been sober in days. Alcohol had always been the enemy. It made her cry and throw up and do things she didn't mean. This time she meant it. This was her punishment.

In her rare moments of semi-clarity, she'd pull up her sleeves and count her scars. She felt like an ancient tree that was rotting from the core, and these scars were the rings that could be used to tell her age. When sober, she could remember each story of how she'd gotten each one. But now, she was having trouble distinguishing the inflicted from the self-inflicted. She was having trouble remembering if there was a difference. Wasn't all her pain self-inflicted? Didn't she deserve this?

Over the last few days, she'd been waking up from nightmares to find that new wounds had appeared. The more she drank, the more she seemed to need to let her skin open to let the alcohol out. Sometimes the usual things seemed to be the culprit: razors and safety pins were always nearby. But sometimes she'd catch herself getting so worked up that she'd claw at herself, leaving long scratches over her limbs in this desperate struggle she was having with herself.

Other times, she would just stare blankly at a wall for hours. She'd watch a favorite movie that normally brought her comfort and feel nothing. It all meant nothing. That was almost the worst part - not connecting with her only means of escape from the hell she lived in.

_"And still you call me co-dependent_

_Somehow you lay the blame on me_

_Somebody get me out of here_   
_I'm tearing at myself_   
_I've got to make a point these days_   
_To extricate myself_

_Somebody get me out of here_   
_I'm tearing at myself_   
_Nobody gives a damn about me or anybody else."_

...

It was three days before Christmas. Alex and the Doctor sat in the living room playing chess. The Doctor decided that now was as good a time as any to bring up something that had been on his mind.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something," he began.

"Of course you do," Alex said. "Right in the middle of my turn. When I'm winning."

"I'm serious," he said. "I mean, not..._serious, _serious. I just wanted to say something."

She looked away from her pieces and up at him. "Oh? What?"

He'd been trying for over a week to think of how to phrase this, but hadn't settled on anything. "You know that day you went missing? Last time we saw Ginger?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Well I found out about...what you've been writing in that journal I gave you."

"Oh. _Oh." _She crossed her arms. "You were reading it? I thought you said you couldn't? It's like psychically linked or something?"

"I wasn't reading it," he explained patiently. "I can't. I wouldn't if I could, because that your space. But Ginger...somehow she could read it."

"Ginger," Alex repeated the name. "How?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "It shouldn't be possible. So many things about her shouldn't be possible. She told me the highlights of what you've written."

"And?" she said, nervously. "You're going to lecture me on the dangers of putting any of that to paper? Even though I changed the names and made up a lot of details to make the story better?"

"Actually, no," he said. "It _is _dangerous, but I'm glad you're processing it. That's healthy."

"Then...What?"

He took a breath and ruffled his hair. "It's just that I know you have a scene where my character tells yours that he's her real father."

"I thought that made narrative sense," she said, trying to play it off like it wasn't a big deal. "Just the drama, you know. Finding out that her adopted mother is actually her real mom and that Mr Smith is her dad. It'll make a good story as soon as I figure out why they had to leave her in the first place and why they wouldn't just tell her."

"Well, sure, I suppose," the Doctor said, ruffling his hair. "But you do know that here, in the real world, I'm not your dad. Right? You know that's impossible."

Alex paused for the slightest second. "I do," she said. "I know that, of course I know that. It's just a stupid story-"

"It's not stupid," the Doctor cut in, sort of surprised that she would say this. "You know I've had children. And grandchildren. Once upon a time. But they're all gone now. I made too many mistakes in my life...Mistakes I'd like to protect you from."

Jack let himself in through the kitchen door just in time to hear the end of the conversation.

"Yeah," she said, smiling sadly. "Not trying to replace them, it's just a story-"

"You didn't let me finish," he said. "I don't have children anymore, not by the normal definition of the word. Never thought I'd want them again, but...I wouldn't mind, you know. If you thought of me as your dad. I'd be honored, actually. I do feel like a father to you, as much as I ever did with any of my biological children. So if you wanted to think of me as your dad, I wouldn't complain. You don't have to call me dad if you're not comfortable even though that wouldn't bother me, just...Wouldn't make the same mistakes with you. But I know that's complicated for you."

"Complicated?" she asked. "Why?"

"Because of your real parents. What you've found out about them recently. I know that had to be difficult for you."

Alex smiled sadly. "Yeah. Honestly that's why I pushed you away after it happened. You were Fake Dad. That's who you are. And sometimes I'd catch myself almost wishing you were Real Dad. And then I came crashing back to Earth and found out what really happened to them and...I felt guilty. Like I betrayed them."

He nodded. "I thought that might be it. I'm not trying to replace them."

"I know. But I never knew them. So you might be the closest thing I've got. And that's more than alright with me."

"I am honored that you wrote me as your dad, but why me?" the Doctor asked. "Why not Jack? He's known you your entire life and I've only known you since you were 15. Why am I your dad and he's just your uncle?"

Alex paused a moment, carefully considering her words. "I dunno," she admitted, shrugging. "He's just...Uncle Jack. He's always been Uncle Jack. He's not really the dad type, don't think he'd really want to be."

The Doctor gave her a knowing look. "It isn't _at all _that you were trying to punish him...?"

She sighed. "Yeah, I guess. Wow, there's really no getting anything past you, is there? But I've forgiven him now. All that stuff is in the past. I'm glad to have you both here." She looked back down at the chessboard. "Alright, you've distracted me long enough. It's my move."

Jack thought now was as good a time as any to interrupt. He barged into the room triumphantly. "I found them! On second thought, maybe I ought to have saved them for Christmas, but I thought I'd lost them so...got carried away."

Alex stared intently at the chessboard in front of her, determined to beat the Doctor in this battle of wits. "Not now, Uncle Jack," she said. "Concentrating."

"Sorry, didn't realize you were in the middle of something important," Jack replied. "I just thought maybe you'd like the few personal effects of Jodie and Shaun Mitchell."

There was a clatter as Alex's arm, which had been mid-way through extending to place a pawn, knocked over several other pieces on the board. She looked up at Jack with what was certainly surprise, but also could have been...something closer to fear. "Personal effects?" she asked, voice suspiciously steady. "Like...like what?"

"Oh you know. Photographs, video logs, journals...small things that could help you remember who they really were. Not who Cor's thumb drive made them seem to be."

"Cor?" The Doctor asked, raising his eyebrows.

Jack ignored the Doctor's teasing. "Look, if it's too much, we don't have to go through it all right this second. But I thought you should have them. You're old enough to understand now. And I'm...sorry I never let you see the photos as a kid. I just couldn't bring myself to look through them but...now I think that wasn't fair to you. But like I said, if it's too much-"

"No I...I want to see them," she said, apprehensively. "Can we now?" She glanced back at the Doctor. "We might have to finish this game later."

"That's alright," he said, bracingly. "We'd have to start all over anyway, since you knocked down most of the pieces." He got to his feet. "I'll give you two some time."

"What?" She looked positively alarmed by the prospect. "No I...I'd like you to stay. Would you? Both?"

The Doctor nodded. "I'm here. Whatever you need."

Alex got to her feet and moved to the sofa. Jack sat to her right and began unpacking the sack he'd brought with him while the Doctor sat down on Alex's left side. Jack put his arm around Alex the way he used to do when she was small as he showed her the photos, but she reached out unconsciously and intertwined her left arm with the Doctor's and leaned into him for support. He was surprised by this small gesture. He said and did nothing about it.

"Your mum looked just like you," the Doctor said.

"Yeah she did," Jack reminisced. "Alex looks more and more like her every day."

"What was she like?" Alex asked.

"She was...she was brilliant. She and your dad were both just...incredible people. You both would've liked them. I was surprised when they told me Jodie was pregnant. Surprised mostly because they told me first and Shaun asked me to be the godfather...I didn't even know he liked me up until that point. He was hard to read, your father."

"Sounds like someone else we know," the Doctor smiled.

"I hadn't known we were that close, but evidently Shaun had always thought of me as a close friend, but just showed it differently. I always thought your dad was autistic," Jack said. He didn't notice the Doctor look up sharply. "Never said anything because it was the 90s and these things weren't widely understood...But Shaun wasn't someone who really socialized. He did his job then left at the end of the day. He wasn't the most affectionate person. Which is why it was so surprising that he was with your mother."

"He loved her a lot?" Alex asked. She wanted so much for this to be a fairy tale.

He nodded. "He loved her more than anything, and she loved him the same. You know that after you were born, Shaun became stay-at-home dad?" Alex shook her head. "Shaun was reclusive anyway, so I think he liked the excuse to come into the hub less and work from home. Jodie was still a field agent so she was the one out and about all the time. Shaun just...he adored you. I didn't think it was possible for him to love something more than Jodie, but you were the light of his life. You meant the world to him. Those few times we made him leave you with a sitter tore him up inside, so eventually we just started letting him take you along to the hub. You were so small, you wouldn't remember anyway."

"What did they do?" Alex asked. "For Torchwood?"

Jack smiled. "Jodie was a lot like Gwen. Stumbled across one of our crime scenes one day and wouldn't let it go. She was a forensics specialist. Eventually we had to admit that we needed her and recruited her. We already had our science expert, but he was a bit of a shut in."

The corner of Alex's mouth twitched as she understood what he was getting at. "That was my dad?"

Jack chuckled. "He was a funny one. A science journalist, obsessed with aliens. Like I said, this was the 90s. Alien invasions didn't happen the way they do now. So people thought he was insane. Just a conspiracy theorist. He stopped being able to get published. Then he actually found something real. Our team was investigating a case and he found us, much the same way your mom did. He kept to the shadows, gathered data, then tried to publish an expose on the secret government conspiracy. He had some major points wrong, but essentially told the truth. But again, nobody believed him. He was mocked ruthlessly by the media, and he gave up. Stopped trying. What's the use of exposing the truth to a public that isn't ready to listen?"

"That's so sad," Alex said.

Jack nodded. "We thought so too. He was a smart guy. He didn't deserve to be treated like that. That's when he stopped going out or socializing. Something in him just broke. So we faked his death and brought him on our team."

Alex's eyes widened. "You _what?"_

"Standard procedure. He had a bit of a 'can't beat em, join em' thing going on at first, and he was our moral compass more than anything. We needed that because everyone, including your mom, forgot the ethics of the situations because we were too fascinated by the science. But I know he grew to love the work." He looked away from the pictures and toward Alex. "I wish you could've known them, Alex. It isn't fair that you don't have even one single memory of them. They were amazing."

"I wish I could've known them too," Alex said. "I hope I can be half as good as they were."

"You already are," Jack assured her. "And I can already see that you will be so much more. They would've been so proud of you, Alex."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Sarah Jane chose that moment to come down the stairs. She caught sight of them and put her hands on her hips. "What's all this?"

Alex looked up at her. "We're looking at pictures of my parents."

"Oh." Sarah Jane hadn't been prepared for that. "Well, I mean, that's good. I can leave you to it, if this is more of a private moment-"

Alex smiled. "Don't be silly, Sarah Jane. You're family. Come look at this one."

Sarah Jane walked slowly over to the sofa and peered at the picture over Alex's shoulder. "My, you were a little thing, weren't you?"

"She wasn't even a year old yet," Jack said. 

"What's that thing she's playing with?"

"Her dad was trying to teach her how to build a portable spectrometer..."

...

Christmas Eve came at last. Ginger moved through the day like she was in a dream. She lit a candle at one point, staring at it blankly for what must have been hours. At one point she reached for the flame, hoping to feel less cold. She didn't even notice her fingers burning.

_"So hurting here is where I belong dreaming a song_

_Blood on my hands to stay strong_

_The flowers in the graveyard are all gone I don't belong_

_There is no right to heal the wrong_

_Soup's on hot feelin' like a do or die_

_I can't throw up don't think i even want to try."_

...

Kira had gone to Japan for the holidays to visit her sick grandmother. Alex missed her a lot, but also felt guilty that a part of her was relieved to get the time to herself. She liked Kira so much that sometimes she couldn't help but emotionally back away from the relationship.

This was the coziest Christmas Eve she'd ever had. Not just because of all the hot food but...she had a family now. Or very nearly, at the very least. That was something she'd almost given up on.

Sarah Jane made them all hot chocolate with the biggest marshmallows she could possibly find. The Doctor accepted his gratefully, but couldn't quite bring himself to drink right away. He felt the strangest twinge in his chest. He excused himself to the kitchen for a moment.

Alex had been the only one to notice the Doctor's tiny reaction to the cocoa, so she took it upon herself to follow him to the kitchen. "What's up, Doc?" she asked, way too casually.

"Hm?" He hadn't noticed he'd been followed. "Oh nothing."

She looked at him steadily. "No really. Getting just..." She gestured at him. "Super weird conflicting vibes off you."

He blinked. "What do you mean by that?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, man...Just lately...I know you miss her. I mean, you won't even touch your hot chocolate."

"Which means what?"

She looked at him steadily. "Doc. It's her favorite drink."

"It's not her favorite drink," the Doctor said. "Her favorite drink is the Oreo Chocolate Milkshake from Sonic."

"Nah it isn't. She was just saying that to push you away."

"Did she say that?"

"No. I just know."

The Doctor thought about how strangely perceptive Alex was, but decided now wasn't the time to say it. "That's all over now," he said, seriously. "Best to move on."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Probably is. Doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. I think maybe she made you, I dunno...forget things for a bit? Gave you something else to focus on. Sure she wasn't always super nice to you, but I know when she did actually say something complimentary it meant something to you." She chuckled nostalgically. "Remember that Time Lord Victorious stuff? She'd spent so long insulting you and being doubtful about everything you said and then she not only admitted that she believed you but she thought you were something truly special. I know it made you feel like you could do just about anything, just because the girl who believed in nothing believed in you for just a moment."

"That was all just talking," the Doctor said, shaken by how she could possibly know that he'd felt this. "She probably didn't mean any of it."

"No, she did," Alex insisted. "I know she did."

"How?"

Alex tried to suss this out. "I dunno. Just...a feeling. I just know, okay?"

"And anyway, even if she did believe in all that, she doesn't anymore. I'm not the Time Lord Victorious. I'm not the superhero she thought I was. I'm not...able to fix anything. And now she knows that."

"She wasn't doing well. I know I keep saying it, but I have a bad feeling."

"Alex, how was that story going to end?"

"Sorry?"

"The one you were writing. The fictionalization of our lives. I know that your character was my character's daughter, but what about the rest."

"Doc-"

"How, Alex?"

"Do you really wanna know? It's just a story."

"It's more than that. You are uncannily perceptive, Alexia Mitchell. I trust your perceptions on these things. So how was that story going to end?"

She hesitated. "I hadn't decided. It could go in several directions."

"Walk me through them? Narratively speaking, what would happen with Ginger? If you had to guess."

She hesitated again and then sighed. She pulled a chair away from the kitchen table and sat down. "I dunno, alright? Ginger's just...she's a mystery. I'd made up a lot of stuff just to explain the way she acted. Some traumas, you know, stuff like that. I know something happened between the two of you in the Maze after I was gone. Something happened and it broke things. I could guess, but that's not what you're looking for. You're looking for what happens now. I'll only say this much: I started writing your characters without being sure if they were in a romantic comedy or a tragedy. And I'm still not sure. But the way I see it, whatever happens, there's no road forward except tragedy."

"How do you figure?"

Alex smiled sadly. "Doc...She's human. You know better."

He nodded, fully understanding her meaning. "You know, it's not like I liked her that much anyway. I mean you're way off base with some of your wilder speculations."

Alex smiled properly. This was more like it. "Right."

"I mean it. Way off base." He took his keys out of his pocket.

"Going somewhere?" Alex asked, eyeing them.

"Yeah, just popping out for a minute," the Doctor said. "Thinking about taking a trip to Mars to clear my head."

"You'll be back in time for Christmas, though?" she asked. He wasn't normally there on Christmas, but she'd been hoping he would stick around this year.

"Wouldn't miss it," he smiled.

...

At nearly midnight, the end credits of the Philosopher's Stone rolled. Ginger had thought to check in with her friends Harry, Ron, and Hermione because they generally soothed her. Brought back her equilibrium. But now she just stared at the screen, wanting to cry but not being able to. She felt blocked...or maybe, more accurately, like scorched earth from which not a drop of moisture was to be found.

...

_"It can't be stopped. Don't die with us."_

_"No, because someone told me just recently. They said I was going to die. They said he will knock four times, and I think I know what that means, and it doesn't mean right here, right now, because I don't hear anyone knocking, do you?"_

_/_

_"_ _Yes, because there are laws. There are Laws of Time. Once upon a time there were people in charge of those laws, but they died. They all died. Do you know who that leaves? Me!"_

_He flashed back suddenly to what Ginger had said to him back at the Carnival, and suddenly it didn't matter whether she had said these words of if it had been some entity possessing her._

_"It's taken me all these years to realize the Laws of Time are mine," the Doctor said. "And they will obey me!"_

_/_

_"For a long time now, I thought I was just a survivor, but I'm not. I'm the winner. That's who I am." He remembered Ginger's words and thought now was a time to reclaim them, whether she believed them or not. "The Time Lord Victorious."_

_"The Time Lord Victorious is wrong."_

_A flash of light, and he realizes his mistake. No matter how hard he tries, some fates are just inevitable. But this one is worse. Instead of dying in the heat of battle, Adelaide now felt like a consequence. She died by her own hand, which he might as well have directed himself._

_He turned his head and saw it, an Ood in the snow. It said nothing, but seemed still to call to him._

"_I've gone too far. Is this it? My death? Is it time?"_

_He returned to the TARDIS, knowing what he was meant to do. Was he meant to just walk gracefully to the gallows?_

_"No."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so I know this is getting progressively more depressing as it goes on. But we've gotta get through the dark to get to the light. Remember those trigger warnings from before? Yeah...
> 
> Anyway, that last bit of the chapter was random bits from "Waters of Mars", because we've finally made it there. I'd recommend going back to watch that episode before reading tomorrow's chapter just to get in the mindset, but it's not a requirement.


	25. Untitled 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember those trigger warnings from before? Please be safe and be mindful going into this chapter. I think it's important that we go through this now, but I don't want to cause anyone undue stress. This is me working through my own personal traumas, and to that end I want to say that if you have struggled with any of the same things that I have and you haven't gotten to a point where you're working through them, please handle this chapter with care.

The Doctor parked the TARDIS in its usual spot behind Sarah Jane's house before quietly letting himself inside. He crept past Jack, who was passed out on the sofa from too much nog, and took care not to rouse anyone else who was tucked away snugly in their beds. He made his way up to Alex's room. He crouched by her bed and shook her awake.

"Alex. Alex, wake up."

She groaned, looking up at him with no short amount of irritation in her bleary eyes. "What's up, Doc? And it had better be presents because otherwise I'll throttle you myself."

"Get up, let's go!" he whispered, excitedly.

"Go?" She was so confused. "Go where?"

"Anywhere! Got the TARDIS idling outside, thought we could take a little trip."

She looked at him closely. "Doc, are you alright? What's happened?"

He blinked, having forgotten how perceptive she was. "Nothing's happened, just want to treat my little girl to an adventure. Be spontaneous."

She nodded. "That is like you, yeah. But I dunno, feels like something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong!" he insisted. "You remember how you wanted to go traveling before? Well you were right! Let's go!"

"No I was wrong." She was suddenly very awake and sat up straight. "You were right to put your foot down because I was just trying to run away from my problems. Now you're doing the same thing. Please tell me what's wrong."

He swallowed, hard. "I just wanted one more trip with you. Didn't want to just disappear."

"Dad, you're scaring me." She hadn't meant to say the word, it just slipped out. It felt natural in a way she couldn't explain. She'd normally feel embarrassed, but she was too caught up in the moment to realize the slip.

That just made it harder for him. "I was told some time ago that I'm supposed to...well, I wouldn't be able to come back. But I promised my daughter I'd be here for Christmas so I'm here for Christmas. Prophesy be damned!"

She just stared at him for a moment, eyes welling with tears. "Did someone die? Was it...was it Ginger?"

"What?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "Why would it be Ginger? I haven't even seen her."

"I just...I had a nasty feeling that...But this has nothing to do with her?"

"Absolutely nothing. I mean, sure, we kissed and it ruined everything but-"

"Wait, Doc, slow down, you _kissed _her? When did this happen?"

"Oh ages ago. Doesn't matter now. What matters is getting to hang out with my daughter on Christmas Eve. "

She just stared at him. "You kissed her, though. That's...worse than I thought."

"So how would you write the ending now? Knowing this information?"

She bit her lip and looked away. "I don't think I should say. And I don't think I should go with you. As much as I'd love that...I'm getting the feeling that there's somewhere you're supposed to be. And you're avoiding it."

"Yes, for some time now, but-"

"Then it must be important. That means you have to go. Don't worry about any of us. I'm sure it'll all be fine."

"What does that mean?" he asked her. "Alex, is there any particular reason why I should be worried? Maybe about Ginger, in particular?"

She hesitated again, clearly torn. "Look, it's just that I've seen something like that before. But I'm sure Ginger wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?" Then he remembered something. "Oh this is...this is about you friend, isn't it? Dani? The one you started telling me about?"

She nodded. "She wasn't really my friend, though. Might've exaggerated a bit. She was just someone I'd see round at school. We weren't close."

"What happened to her?" He was getting nervous, though he couldn't pin point why.

"Doc-"

"Alex, what happened to her? You said it ended badly."

"Well, Doc...she's dead. She was so traumatized by what happened to her when she was younger that she got involved in a relationship before she'd dealt with it and ended up pushing everyone away and then...well, she killed herself. That's what I meant before. That's the ending that I was afraid of. I've seen her arms, Doc."

Although he still didn't know what she meant by that, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and got to his feet. His mind was troubled with images of Ginger in the Maze, when she'd seemed so utterly defeated. She hadn't looked like someone who'd had a will to live.

"I have to go," he said. "But...I can't go. I can't miss Christmas."

She looked at him sadly. "If you have to miss Christmas...that's okay. I understand. It's practically Christmas anyway."

He couldn't help but wonder if this had been what the Corsair had meant about her being a 'moderating influence'. Maybe this was the path she'd been trying to set him on. He cupped Alex's cheek with his right hand and kissed her forehead. "Little Alex Mitchell, all grown up. My brave girl."

A few tears leaked from her eyes. "Do what you feel is right," she said. "I know you will. You always do." She didn't know what she meant by that, whether she was trying to tell him to follow his destiny or go check on Ginger. Maybe both.

...

He went back to the TARDIS, fully intending to follow her advice and go meet the Ood. Then he realized she hadn't actually said to do that. She'd just said to do what he felt was right. That was so ambiguous, that she could've meant anything. He knew what he felt was right and, hell, he wasn't quite ready to die.

...

The world seemed eerily quiet as he landed the TARDIS outside the theatre at 6 AM Christmas morning. He stepped over the fresh snow that crunched underfoot and sparkled like little shards of glass, and thought of how the thickly falling snow reminded him too much of ashes. He used the sonic screwdriver to let himself inside, not really having a plan for what he'd do once in there. He knew she didn't sleep much, but he thought she seemed like the type who might just be asleep at this early hour. It wasn't like she was likely to be up unwrapping presents. He just hoped that she hadn't immediately left London the moment he found out that she lived there.

As soon as he entered the auditorium, he heard the unmistakable sounds of music playing softly through the hush of the building. That had to be a good sign. Meant she was here and awake. He couldn't find an exact location the music was emanating from, as it was being blasted from the speakers. She could be anywhere in here and remote controlling the sound system from her phone.

"Ginger?" he called to her, still feeling uneasy. It was quite dark in here and he didn't hear any signs of movement. "Ginger, look, I know you don't want to see me but...Well, can we talk?"

Still no response. That concerned him more than anything. Ginger wasn't one to hide, she would've come out by now to snap his head off for violating her terms. The only sound was the song playing, and he was becoming concerned with the content in the lyrics.

_"I don't want to disappoint you all,_

_Because you held me up before I fall,_

_You're my unconditional lovers,_

_You're my eyes and you're my sunny days,_

_But when my pen hit the paper I tried_

_To mold and sculpt and shape her and make her lovely_

_It wasn't good enough, it wasn't good enough."_

"Ginger, seriously, I'm just here to talk," he shouted again, before noticing a faint light coming from the tech booth.

_Of course, _he thought. _She'll be up there._

The music kept playing.

_"I tried to numb it,_

_But it still hurts to touch."_

He reached the ladder, the same one where he'd first laid eyes on her all those months ago.

_"And it hurts to touch-"_

"Ginger?" he said, standing on the loft now, just outside the tech booth which he now remembered was basically her equivalent of a bedroom. He knocked softly on the door, as if asking permission to enter. Just trying to be polite.

_"And it hurts to touch-"_

"You in there?"

_"And it hurts to touch-"_

"Sorry, I know you don't want to talk to me-"

_"And it hurts to touch-"_

"And it's a bit early-"

_"And it hurts to touch."_

"Ginger?" he asked, knocking with more urgency. "Can I come in? Ginger, it's me. I wanted to check on you because I'm worried about you. And I know it's my fault. I'm sorry. If you don't say something in the next second I'm going to come in, okay?" Still nothing. "Alright, I'm coming in." He turned the knob to enter, letting his eyes adjust to the low light of only one nearly spent candle on top of the mini fridge.

_"And it hurts to be here-"_

"Ginger?" he asked, in a low voice.

_"I don't want to be here-"_

His eyes landed on a shape on the air mattress on the floor.

_"And it hurts to be here-"_

A human-shaped shape.

_"Tonight."_

"Ginger!" he shouted, panic rising as he realized what he was seeing. He flipped on the overhead light to rush to the side of the bed.

_"And it hurts to be here (suicidal tendencies)-"_

Her hair was matted to her face with sweat, and she seemed to be breathing - but only barely.

_"I don't want to be here (drain creativity)-"_

"What did you do?" he asked, grabbing her by the arms. His hands came away sticky with blood. "You're bleeding! What did you do?" Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused as if not really seeing him.

_"And it hurts to be here-"_

"Doctor?" she slurred, her voice faint.

_"Tonight."_

"We need to get help," he said, trying his best not to panic. Panicking wouldn't help her.

_"And it hurts to be here (suicidal tendencies)-"_

"No!" she said, faintly. "Leave me alone. Let me go."

He began trying to pick her up. "I'm not doing that. You're not thinking clearly."

"This is the clearest I've ever been in my life. Just want to disappear."

_"I don't want to be here (drain creativity)-"_

"No, you're not doing this. I'm not going to let you be another one of my consequences."

"As if the whole universe revolves around you," her voice was getting faint, but she still found the time to be sarcastic.

_"Goodnight-"_

"This was a long time coming. An inevitability. So let it go. Let me have what I want, just once-"

_"My love."_

Ginger started coughing and shaking, and within seconds she had gone completely limp in his arms.

"GINGER!"

...

"You're up early," Mickey Smith said. "Don't tell me you were up trying to make me breakfast in bed?"

Martha Jones turned away from the coffee pot with a smile. "You wish. It's Christmas morning, I can't help but wake up early. Besides, mum will have made breakfast when we go over later. It'll offend her if we've already eaten."

"Well it was worth a try," he grinned back at her. "I'm actually glad you're up. I had something I wanted to give you."

She raised her eyebrows. "Now? Thought we were saving the gifts for later on."

"Well this one is special," he replied, nervously. "Wanted to do it while we still have some time alone."

"Right," Martha said. "Especially seeing as we have to clear out of here right after the New Year right?"

Mickey had surprised her by renting out this Airbnb for a few weeks around Christmas. He'd said that it was so they could have some time alone instead of having to stay at one of their cramped apartments.

"Yeah, that's sort of the thing," he laughed to himself. "You like it here?"

"I do," she agreed. "It's cozy."

"Would you like to stay longer?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well I sort of...lied about it being a bnb. I actually saved up and started renting this place for us." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "And I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to take the next step and, well, move in with me."

She was so thrown off by the offer that she was unable to process it right away. Before she could answer, her cellphone rang.

"Sorry, let me just..." She picked the phone up off the counter and peered at the screen.

"Let it go to voicemail," Mickey pressed.

"It's...the Doctor," Martha said, surprised. "Sorry, I have to take this. Could be important. I'll just be a second." She answered it. "Hello?"

"Martha, where are you?" The Doctor was speaking so loudly that Mickey could hear him from a couple feet away. "I came here to 2009 because that's the last place I knew you'd be, but I'm outside your apartment and you're not here! I need your help!" He didn't sound angry, just...actually terrified. Martha wasn't sure that made it better.

"Doctor, slow down, what's happened?"

"There's no time! Where are you?"

Martha glanced at Mickey before answering. "I'm not at the apartment. I'll give you the address. Park around back." She gave him the address and hung up. "I'm so sorry, it was the Doctor. I think he's in trouble."

"He always is," Mickey said, with just a trace of bitterness. Then his eyes widened. "Wait, is it Rose?"

"He didn't say."

...

The TARDIS arrived within minutes and Martha rushed out to greet the Doctor. She nearly collided into him head on as he was trying to rush out to find her, he was in such a hurry. The near collision didn't even phase her and he immediately took her by the arm and started rushing her further back in the TARDIS.

"I'm sorry, I know it's Christmas, there just wasn't anyone else I could turn to-"

"Doctor, what's happened?" She was completely alarmed by how out of sorts he was. She'd seen him emotional before, but she seemed to have caught him in the middle of a breakdown. His eyes were erratic, he was shaking and white as a sheet. His hair was sticking out at odd angles from where he clearly had been tugging at it, and she was convinced that she could see traces of blood on his hands that had made it into his hair by accident. "Are you bleeding?"

"No, it's not me, it's my friend, something's happened to her, I need a doctor."

"And naturally, you think of me," she said.

"Right," he agreed. "I can do simple stuff but human physiology is slightly different and this is _beyond _what I know. The nanobots even have trouble responding - I think she's been drinking. Alcohol has an inhibiting effect on nanobots. I think she's lost a lot of blood."

"Who's lost a lot of blood?" Mickey had just appeared at their heels. "Is it Rose?"

"No it's not Rose," the Doctor said, impatiently. "We don't have time for this, Mickey, so stay out of the way."

"You can't take her to a hospital?" Martha asked.

"No, no, I need someone I can trust! She's in some sort of trouble and I need you to be discreet, please, can you do that?"

"Of course I can. Anything you need."

He led her into the sick bay where a young woman with short red hair lay barely breathing on the cot. Martha picked a stethoscope off the table and went straight to work. "This isn't good, she barely has a pulse. You said she's been drinking?"

"She smells like it."

"Yeah she does." Martha got to work examining her arms, which were still bleeding. "The good news is she hasn't lost much blood. These cuts aren't too deep and didn't really nick the major arteries. They appear self-inflicted though."

The Doctor was haunted by Alex's earlier words. _I've seen her arms, Doc._

Martha carried on. "Is she an addict? Because I can stabilize her, but I'm not qualified to provide recovery care to addicts."

"What?" The Doctor was shocked by this line of questioning. "No, of course not. What makes you think that?"

"She doesn't appear to have any track marks." Martha dropped the arm and started prepping. "But she smells strongly of alcohol and cough syrup. Humans can get high off cough syrup. That itself is already dangerous, but combining it with alcohol depresses the respiratory system and has a high risk of overdose. It's possible she didn't know that. I'm going to need Nalaxone and intravenous fluids, stat. I'm most likely going to need to pump her stomach as well, but she's going to need an IV drip of fluids." The Doctor just stood there, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

_I can't lose her_, he thought. _Not another one. I can't be responsible for two suicides in the same night. _

Martha snapped her fingers in his face. "Hey! Hey! She needs your help, so are you going to stand there or are you going to save her life?"

"Right, yes," the Doctor snapped out of it. "What medication did you need?"

"Nalaxone," Martha replied, as the Doctor ran to the medicine cabinet. She knew the TARDIS would instantly stock whatever they needed. "It will counteract the Opioids in her system."

"Opioids? You said it was cough medicine! She wouldn't use-"

"Doctor, there are low levels of Opioids in cough medicine," she said, patiently. "Which I'm sure you'd know if you were thinking clearly. Has she been having seizures?"

"No."

"Good. I could start her on some stuff to prevent them, but I'm hesitant to put her on benzos if she's an addict."

"She's not," he replied, coming around with a bottle and a syringe.

Martha took the bottle and the syringe from him and began filling the syringe. Just then, the heart monitor Ginger was hooked up to started flatlining.

"Never mind, we don't have time for this," she shoved the medicine back in his hands. "We're losing her."

Martha began CPR as the Doctor stood there, completely frozen. He had only one thought that kept circling around his head:

_I'm losing her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't leave you on this cliffhanger for long, guys, I promise. Take the amount of processing that you need.


	26. Handle

What followed was a grueling few hours of wrestling with Ginger's erratic vital signs.

"She's stable," Martha said, finally. "Which is a miracle, honestly." She wiped sweat from her brow. "You know I'm not qualified to do this on my own. You really should-"

"I'm not taking her to a hospital," the Doctor said for the millionth time. "She wouldn't want that."

"I'm not sure that what she wants is factoring into your decision-making," Martha said. "You made a decision based on her well-being, despite all the obvious signs that she didn't want to be alive. So what's stopping you from making another decision that will keep her alive against her will?"

"I just won't," he said, firmly. "You said she's stable?"

"Yeah."

"So she'll be alright?" the Doctor said, running a shaky hand through his already wild hair.

"I didn't say that," Martha replied. "I'm not so sure she was fine to begin with, for one thing. For another...Doctor, I'm sorry, but I don't know if she'll wake up."

"W-well, there's gotta be something we can do-"

"Doctor, I don't like the looks of this," she cut in, anxiously. "I'm starting to get really worried."

"She's strong, a fighter! She'll pull through out of sheer spite-"

"I don't mean about her," she said slowly.

There was a short pause while the Doctor let this sink in.

Martha pressed on. "Doctor, look at yourself. You're a complete mess. I've seen you through some real bad times, yeah, but even through that...you still had some direction. You pressed on, you fought. Even if you had a crisis of faith for a tiny second, you kept going. But you're coming apart at the seams here. You seem lost. You're not even able to think clearly anymore. What's happened?"

He looked at her for a moment with a look of deep sadness. "I...I don't know."

"Where's Rose?" Martha asked, softly. "Shouldn't she be around here somewhere? Thought you two would be inseparable now that you found her again."

"Well that's where it all started, you know," the Doctor said, letting himself realize this. "That's when it all went wrong. She's gone again and...not coming back and..." He swallowed hard and buried his face in his hands. "I'm just trying to stay alive." He was trembling, but hadn't quite lost control of himself.

Martha felt her heart shatter, but decided to press on anyway. "Who is she?" she asked.

The Doctor looked up again, red-rimmed eyes looking older than she'd ever seen them. "Hm?" he asked, blearily. Martha gestured at the patient. "Oh. That's Ginger."

"Ginger?"

"That's what she calls herself, anyway."

"You care about her a lot," Martha said, treading carefully because she could sense they were entering sensitive territory. "She's not just some person you picked up off the street or someone you just met. You know her."

"I wouldn't say that."

"That you know her?"

"Yeah. Sure we continue to run into each other and seem to have a lot in common and have traveled together some over the past few months...but to say that anybody _knows _Ginger..." He sighed, letting the realization wash over him. "I know she loves Harry Potter, punk rock, anything from the 90s, Joss Whedon shows, and Gene Wilder. But I don't really know much about her. Sometimes she'll let something slip like the fact that she was a foster kid or grew up with religious fundamentalists but...I know so little about her. We had an agreement. Never ask questions. I can tell, even though she doesn't say, that she's in so much pain. I didn't want to make her relive it by asking..." He took a shaky breath. "She wouldn't even travel with me full time, I always dropped her back off at home after."

"So..." Martha began, letting this sink in. "You don't actually know her that well at all. Doctor is it...is it possible even a little bit that she might be an addict? It's important that you know so she can be helped."

"I...I think I'd notice if she'd been using," the Doctor said, suddenly doubting himself. "I mean I've heard her talk about marijuana before and alcohol...but the way she talked about it was like she hadn't used either of those things in years. She often said she didn't like the taste of alcohol or the way it made her feel."

"But she was drunk today. Could you have...I don't know...seen the signs coming and just ignored them? It's alright if you were in denial. It's perfectly normal."

He took a shuddering breath. "Remind me what the signs are?"

"Has she maybe had fluctuations in weight? Maybe insomnia, poor physical coordination, unkempt appearance, or slurred speech? It could also manifest as anxiety, loss of focus or motivation, angry outbursts, personality changes, self-isolating, mood swings, and paranoia."

"I have noticed lately that she's been looking a bit paler," the Doctor said, reluctantly. "She was so good, so happy in October. Then all of a sudden Halloween was over and she was just different. The same but...different."

"Is it possible that she could've been on something in October then lost her supply? Or the opposite could be true...maybe she just recently got on something and it got out of control."

The Doctor didn't even want to think about that. "She had a lot of those symptoms but...I mean a lot of them I had chalked up to her...Well, to this other diagnosis that I was starting to suspect she had. Which I'm sure it still is. I just hadn't gotten around to figuring out how to outright ask yet."

"Doctor..." Martha began. "I hate to ask this but...When's the last time you slept? Or ate something?"

"I...don't remember."

"I thought so. I'm prescribing you some food and a nap immediately. You need rest or you're no good to anyone."

"I don't need-"

"Oh no you don't." She tried for a reassuring smile. "Doctor's orders. I'll take over here for now."

"Martha, it's Christmas," the Doctor said. "You should be with your family. If she's stable for now, I can watch. Time Lords need less sleep than humans. If something happens and I need you, I'll call."

"Doctor, I really do think you should sleep-"

"And Martha, I really don't want to leave her." A desperate edge entered his voice, and Martha detected a hint of mild panic rising behind his eyes. "I made that mistake once when she told me to go and now look at her! I won't leave her, I can't." He felt the beginnings of hyperventilation and reminded himself to take slower breaths. "I won't...I won't let her wake up not knowing where she is. I won't let her wake up alone."

Martha didn't know what to say, this was quickly beginning to scare her. "Alright. I'm just going to go grab you some food from the kitchen, alright? And I'll bring you leftovers from mum's, alright?"

"Thank you, Martha. I don't know what I'd ever do without you."

Martha tried to smile reassuringly, but the action betrayed her worry. She left without another word.

He returned his gaze to Ginger, who looked so fragile and breakable lying there in front of him. "Stay with me, okay?" he pleaded with her. Don't you dare die on me or I'll be very cross, okay? You'll get such a telling off from me if you die, you don't even know."

...

The next couple of days passed without incident. Ginger stayed stable, but still wouldn't wake. The Doctor sat by her bedside, absolutely refusing to leave in case something happened.

**Day One:**

The stillness of her was incredibly disconcerting. She looked so very fragile - like a porcelain doll whose arms were covered in cracks and burns from a lifetime of rough handling. 

"These readings are really weird," Martha said.

The Doctor had been staring intently at his hands and looked up sharply. "Weird?" He came around to her side and looked at the monitor. "Weird how?"

"There's a build-up of some sort of energy in her system," Martha explained. "It doesn't seem to be doing any damage - quite the opposite, really - but I don't know what it is, how it got there, or why there's so much of it."

The Doctor put on his glasses and peered at the monitor. "That's impossible."

Martha looked at him. "What is?"

"Impossible," he repeated. He pointed at the monitor. "That's Artron Energy."

"Artron Energy?" she asked.

"I think I noticed this before," he said. "But I just thought it was a normal bi-product of time travel, so I thought nothing of it. More important things to do, you know. But at these levels..."

"Doctor, you're doing that thing where you don't explain."

He remembered her again. "Right. Well. It's a sort of radiation from the Time Vortex. The TARDIS feeds on it. Time Lords also have high quantities of it naturally - we need it to regenerate. Humans soak up a bit of background Artron radiation just by time traveling, but these readings don't make sense."

"Why not?"

"Because these particles didn't soak into her the way radiation would. These readings indicate that Ginger's body naturally produces Artron Energy at a level that I've never seen before. She's human, completely, but her cells are releasing it rapidly. And it's...healing her...somehow? It doesn't make sense."

...

**Day Two**

She was a bit more restless. She muttered nonsense at times, and seemed to be struggling against some horrible monsters in her mind. He tried to comfort her, to find a way to soothe her...but he was such a tactile person, and remembered each time he was on the verge of reaching out to comfort her that she hated being touched. And he wanted to respect her boundaries, even when she was asleep.

"That shouldn't be possible," Martha said.

"I'm starting to get used to saying that about her," said the Doctor. "What is it this time?"

"She's still deep in a coma," Martha said. "But somehow I'm registering _some _brain-wave activity? It's erratic and nonsensical...Areas of the brain continue to light up even though they shouldn't be communicating at all. I only checked because she shouldn't be able to move or speak in her state...and yet..." She turned the monitor so he could see it. "Look at this. I'm no neurosurgeon, but even I know that's highly irregular brain activity."

He peered at it closely. "Yes. That is irregular. Project me a holographic image of it." Martha started to ask how to do that before she realized he'd been talking to the TARDIS. The TARDIS took the readings and shot a blue holographic image of the brain across the room to him. "How familiar are you with the human brain, Martha?"

"Like I said. I'm no neurosurgeon."

"Look at these brain structures. Most are very human and exactly what you'd expect. But some of them...Some of those structures wouldn't be out of place in the brain of a Time Lord."

"What are you saying?" she asked.

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted. "The thing is that I don't recognize some of these structures at all. I don't know what their function is or what they do...I've never seen anything like it. She reads as human on every conceivable test, and yet...I'll admit to having noticed some abnormalities beyond the realm of human or even Time Lord capability."

Martha decided that maybe it was a good time to stop speculating. The Doctor clearly needed a distraction from the cold, hard facts. "She might be able to hear you," she said. "You could try talking to her."

"Martha," the Doctor said. "Could you get me a copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Of course," she said. "But why?"

"Ginger told me once that her favorite Harry Potter book was Order of the Phoenix, but there were some scenes in Chamber of Secrets that made her feel better no matter what. I think I'll read to her."

"That sounds like a good idea," Martha said.

Ginger seemed to grow calm while he was reading, but soon he ran out of comforting scenes to read. And anyway, he was becoming too tired to focus on reading. At one point, something she was dreaming about disturbed her so much that she clenched her hands into fists, drawing blood with her fingernails. That time he did break his rule to respect boundaries, because he didn't want her to hurt herself. He gently took her hand and held it until he was sure she'd relaxed again, even though he ended up with tiny marks on his palm where her nails bit into it for a moment.

...

Martha had never appreciated her family more than she did when she and Mickey visited for Christmas. As hectic as things could get, at least everyone was safe and healthy and together. She still told Mickey she needed time to think about his offer to move in with him, that there was just so much going on that she couldn't make a decision right now.

When she was back at the rental house, she'd pop in to monitor how Ginger was doing, but her primary concern was with the Doctor. There was nothing more to do with Ginger but to see if she woke up, but the Doctor was actively losing his grip the longer she stayed under. Martha wasn't sure what to do about that - it was so alarming to see him like this.

But on the 28th of December...Ginger woke up.

Ginger was disoriented. She swam in and out of consciousness for a few seconds while she struggled to make sense of the bright lights and strange noises. She didn't immediately realize what was going on, which made her panic. She tried to move but discovered an IV drip in her arm.

_No, _she thought, having the horrible realization hit her. _This is not happening again._

She tried to leap off the cot and tear the various instruments off her as her heart monitor beeped out of control. Martha could hear the commotion and rushed into the room at once, trying to soothe her and get her to calm down.

"It's alright, you're safe-"

"Like hell I am!" Ginger screamed, hitting and scratching to get free. "Get off me! Let me go!"

The Doctor had been dozing by her bedside and got to his feet to try to help. "Ginger-"

"Should I get a sedative?" Martha asked.

"I don't think it'll be necessary," the Doctor said, grabbing her flailing arms. "Ginger, it's just me. It's the Doctor. I'm trying to help, and I'd really rather not have to give you a seda-give."

This gave her pause, but her eyes were still wild and her breathing was still rapid as she looked at him. "Doctor?"

He smiled, glad at least that her memory was still intact. "Yes, that's right. It's me. You're safe."

"Where are we?" she asked, looking nervous. "Don't like hospitals."

"We're on the TARDIS," the Doctor replied.

Ginger took a second to process this before roughly pulling away from him and sitting perched on the edge of the cot. "Don't like doctors," she grumbled.

"I can see that," Martha said, dryly.

"Who's she?" Ginger jerked her head in Martha's direction.

"_She _saved your life," the Doctor said. "You could show some gratitude."

"Martha Jones," Martha said. "Forgive me if I don't try to shake your hand, I'm concerned you might try to bite it."

Ginger looked at her with that familiar unreadable expression for a second. "I like her," she decided. "Not thanking her, though." She turned back to the Doctor, anger rising. "I specifically told you not to save me. What part of 'this is what I want' did you not understand?"

"Pretty much all of it, yeah," the Doctor said. The Doctor began to feel anger as well, but before he could say anything Martha beat him to it.

"I'll let you two talk in a moment, but as attending physician, I have a few personal questions so I can attend to your care. Can you tell me your name?"

"She won't do that, Martha-" the Doctor cautioned.

"I guess it's no good asking a time traveler what year it is or who's prime minister," Martha said. "Let me ask just one question, since you already answered the one about suicidal ideation. Normally I'd be less blunt, but I figure you'd appreciate getting it out of the way."

"Martha, maybe it would be best if I asked it." The Doctor decided to put his anger to the side for just one moment since this was important. "She's not good with new people."

"Alright, just so long as we know," Martha said.

"Ginger..." the Doctor said, fully expecting a smack from him. "Are you an addict?"

She blinked as the question sunk in, crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest. She hadn't expected this question. "No. I'm not."

"Ginger, it's alright-"

"But I'm honestly not," she said, frustrated. "I know that's what every addict says, but I'm telling you the truth. Not that I look down on addicts or anything - I've known my fair share. I don't use substances much at all, not for about 5 years."

Martha seemed unconvinced. "Ginger, it's important that you be truthful-"

"I believe her," the Doctor cut in.

Both of the women in the room turned to look at him with shock.

"Doctor," Martha said, softly. "It's important that you put personal feelings aside and not live in denial. If this is a problem then it needs to be addressed as soon as possible."

"I believe her," he said again. "The two of us have always been on the same wavelength. I can always tell when she's being evasive or telling a half truth or a lie. She's being genuine."

"That could be, but-"

"I don't think it's denial, either. She says it and I just...I know it. I don't know how I know it, but I do."

"The outward symptoms-"

"You mean the circumstantial evidence?" Ginger asked, raising her eyebrows. "Please, present them to the whole court before you sentence me."

"I mean, the overdose for one-"

"Alcohol and cough syrup both depress the respiratory system," Ginger said. "Taken together they can be deadly. I don't drink much these days because I don't like how it makes me feel, and I never liked the taste of cough syrup even when I was a kid. I've seen people overdose on that cocktail before, thought it seemed like one of the more peaceful ways to go. After my last attempt, I didn't want to end up with the excruciating recovery from blood loss. Exhibit B, if you please?"

"Unkempt appearance, mood swings, paranoia - the Doctor mentioned you maybe don't get a lot of sleep."

"Are there any other conditions which might explain those symptoms, or is addiction the only one?"

Martha thought about it for a moment. "Well, I mean, any number of physical sicknesses...also severe trauma and mood disorders-"

Ginger nodded. "Maybe we jumped to conclusions?"

"I'd still like to monitor you for a few days," she said, firmly. "In case it's co-morbid."

Ginger groaned. "Fine, I suppose you wouldn't be doing your due diligence if you didn't. And I don't blame you, by the way. If I saw someone overdosed and having my outward symptoms...Well, I've seen it enough times I'd come to the same conclusion. And I do have...issues." She put a hand in the air in a gesture not unlike a pledge. "But my hand to the first Harry Potter book, addiction is not one of them."

"Well you seem fine for now," Martha said. "I'm going to go check in with Mickey. You two talk."

"Hey before you go," Ginger said. "Can you take these bloody tubes out of my arm? I mean is there any special reason why I should still have an IV in? It's just annoying me at this point."

"I suppose since you're awake, I won't need to keep you on fluids," Martha agreed.

After the IV was removed, Martha left the two of them alone.

"I can't believe you did this to me," Ginger finally said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Did what to you, exactly? Seems you did this to yourself."

"No I took matters into my own hands," Ginger snapped. "I made my decision, I wasn't scared or sad. I was finally at peace. Didn't shed one tear for myself. Not fit to waste it on, not like I'm Topher Brink or something."

"Being numb is not the same thing as being at peace," he said, heavily. "I think you're too scared to let yourself feel anything besides anger. You only let out your true self when you listen to Queen or read Deathly Hallows. The emotions are there, you just haven't given yourself permission to feel them. It's not a weakness to let yourself feel."

"I just can't believe that no matter what happens to me - even when I try to do it myself - I can't seem to die. People have tried so hard. I've tried so hard, in so many different ways. But I just won't die."

"Well you did this time," the Doctor said. "Your heart stopped for almost a full minute. I thought...I thought you were going to stay dead. And then you were asleep for three days and Martha said you might never wake up-"

"What do you care?" she asked, looking absolutely perplexed at why he was letting himself get so worked up. "No, honestly, what does it matter to you if I live or die?"

"You're my friend and I almost lost you! It's fine if you never wanted to speak to me again, I can live with that...But be out there, somewhere! Living your life!"

"My life?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I don't have a life! It's like Mrs Lovett always said - life is for the alive, my dear-"

"Don't say that to me, don't go deflecting like an edgy teenager! You're smarter than that! You should be out there, in the world-"

"I don't want to be out there!" she shouted, feeling on the verge of tears again. "I don't want to be anywhere! I just want it to stop!"

"I just...I don't understand that. How can you say that? I would give _anything _to be young again! To have my whole life ahead of me! I just want to live, do you understand that? No, of course you don't, because you just want to give yours away! Completely waste it! If I had that choice, if I could choose to just have one more day..." He rubbed his eyes. "I just wish you'd tell me why. Make me understand. Why couldn't you have just reached out for help?"

"Didn't occur to me," she said, sullenly. "I don't need anyone's help. I don't understand why you didn't just let me go. Especially now that you're so angry with me."

"I'm not angry with you. Ginger, I'm...I'm confused and...Well, terrified."

"Terrified?" This surprised her. "What do you have to be terrified of?"

"So many things, if I'm being honest. I'm terrified of the future - what's left of it, anyway. Up until three days ago I was just terrified of what might happen to me, but now. Now I'm terrified of what might happen to you. And, selfishly, I'm afraid that it'll be my fault. I'm afraid that when I kissed you in the maze, it triggered something and pushed you over the edge. And you hated me so much for it."

"I don't hate you. I'm not even...I'm not even angry with you." To his astonishment, her eyes filled with tears. "I wish I was. I want to hate you. I looked for every reason and you never gave me one. You were the first person who looked at me and really saw me. Not what I've done or who I've been...You saw me. And that scared me. Because if you kept looking you'd see what everybody else had and you'd hate me. But then I also tried to do things to get you to hate me so that I could just get it out of the way instead of waiting for it to happen later. I always fuck it up and I thought if I just...if I fuck it up now then it's done. It's over with. So I tried to make you hate me the way I hate me so that maybe I could hate you too. But it didn't work! And I'm so confused and so scared of everything and had to make it stop! You don't understand, I just had to make it stop!"

He'd never seen her like this - so on the edge of breaking. Even when she'd been dying, she hadn't seemed nearly so fragile. Her eyes were full of tears that hadn't yet spilled. She tried to blink them back. He moved to sit on the bed next to her. She looked at him and he thought for a moment that she was about to snap at him to get off the bed the same way she had back at Bathory's castle all those months ago. But she didn't. She focused on him.

"Doc, you're a mess." She reached up with trembling fingers to brush his cheek. "That's...blood. My blood. It's all over you."

"It's on my hands," he said, uselessly.

"I'm so...I'm so sorry."

She burst into tears, her whole body seeming to collapse into itself. He started to reach out, but remembered that she didn't like being touched. To his surprise, she leaned into him, burying her face in his chest and just sobbing. He instinctively put his arms around her thin, frail form and tried his best to keep her from breaking.

"I said...Oh god, I said such _horrible _things to you!" she sobbed. "But you still came back. Why did you come back?"

"You're my friend," he said, softly. "What was I supposed to do? Leave you to die?"

"Yes," she replied, in such a definite way that he felt a deep sorrow for her. "It's what everyone has always done. I'm so sorry about the things I said to you. I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean them."

"Shh, it's alright, Rabbit," he said, smoothing down her hair as he held her. "It's all going to be alright."

"No it won't-"

"Yeah it will. I promise."

A few minutes later she had cried herself out and appeared positively drained. "Woah, that's trippy," she said, looking down at her arms.

"What is?" he asked.

"There aren't even any marks where the IV was," she said, perplexed. "And my...more recent cuts. They're gone too."

"Nanobots," the Doctor explained. "They healed your recent open wounds."

"But what about my old scars? They're still here."

"I imagine you'll have to heal those all on your own. It takes time. Letting yourself cry was a good start though."

She sank back onto the pillows of the cot. "Sorry about that," she said. "Don't know what came over me. There wasn't even any sad music on."

"Yeah, speaking of sad music," the Doctor replied, suddenly remembering something. "What was that song you were listening to before? When I...when I found you? I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't ask."

She smiled fondly. "Polly Scattergood. I always like a bit of Polly when I'm feeling down. She gets me."

"Bit depressing, though," he said. "You should try listening to something a bit more cheerful."

To his surprise, she smiled more to herself and began chuckling.

"What?" he asked, smiling now too.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "You wouldn't get it."

"Now I have to know."

She chuckled. "It's just that...Well, there's this other song of hers."

"And?" he grinned. "What does it say?"

_"My doctor says I've got to sing a happy tune."_

There was a short pause as the two just looked at each other before he finally, slowly, said: "...Your Doctor?"

She came back to herself then, realizing the situation was getting dangerously sappy. "No! That's not what I meant! Don't be stupid!" She looked away, defensively. "It's just a song."

"It never is, with you," he said. "They always mean something."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh fuck off, already."

He raised his hands in defeat and got to his feet. "Alright, alright," he chuckled. "Did you want to get some rest now?"

She seemed alarmed by the prospect. "No! I mean...would you stay with me? Please?"

He nodded, relieved she'd been the one to suggest it. He sat back down in the chair by the bedside. "I'm not going anywhere, Rabbit. I promise."


	27. Running

The Doctor and Ginger stayed up for quite a few hours watching game shows on the television across from the bed. The Doctor was exhausted and felt himself fading, but he found himself unable to leave. He was too afraid to leave her on her own. It was a good thing this game show 'Um, Actually' was actually pretty funny.

The question was: "In the JJ Abrams show 'Fringe', Cortexiphan was conceptualized as a red drug that was administered to children to unlock the hidden potential of their brains. While it was created to help facilitate interdimensional travel, it also had side effects that ranged from reverse empathy to mind reading to telekinesis."

But the presenter had only gotten a few words into the question when Ginger cut in.

"Um, actually," she said, propping herself up on more pillows. "Cortexiphan was originally supposed to be yellow. That's why in 'Inner Child' back in season one, she says that yellow reminds her of medicine. Saying that it was 'conceptualized' as red is wrong, since it wasn't changed to red until later. I think they should've planned it better. How cool would it be if that line really _was _related to her trauma of being a test subject?"

He couldn't help but smile. That was more like her. "How many times have you seen Fringe?"

"Oh, let's not count. Let's just say that Olivia is one of the most relatable characters I've ever come across. We have a lot in common, her and me."

"So are you saying that you're a Cortexiphan kid?" He was half-joking, but it also occurred to him how little he knew about her. It seemed as good a reason as any for her aversion to doctors and would also explains all the anomalies about her physiology. He dashed these thoughts away, reminding himself that Cortexiphan was fiction.

She rolled over on her side and propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. "Are you asking if I was a human test subject?"

"Possibly."

She rolled onto her back again. "Wouldn't you like to know. Let's just say that we have a lot in common and leave it at that."

When Martha returned, Ginger had already fallen asleep but the Doctor still hadn't left her side.

"Doctor, you need to sleep," Martha said to him, firmly but gently. "In your bed, not here in this chair."

"I don't want to leave her," the Doctor said. "I'm too afraid of what might happen if she's on her own."

"Which is a good point," Martha said. "Neither one of us are qualified for this. She needs to be put into treatment."

He sat up straight and glared at her. "Meaning what?"

She refused to back down. "_Meaning _that she needs to be under at least 72-hour observation. By a doctor. A real psychologist. In a hospital."

He shook his head. "No. She'd never go for it and involuntary care is often more traumatic than the trauma itself. You know, that's so typically human of you. Someone's mental illness inconveniences you so you want to lock her away so you don't have to think about it."

"You know that's not what I meant," Martha sighed. "And you can't watch her twenty-four hours a day. You need help. _She _needs help."

"I'd rather have her here with me," he said. "Where I can be sure she's taken care of. I'm going to trust some _stranger _to have her best interest? I won't betray her like that."

"Regardless," Martha said. "You need sleep. Look at you. I'm actually worried about you. You've got her blood all over you and haven't bathed or changed clothes in days. You're barely eating, and only when I make you. Have you had more than a collective thirty minutes of sleep in the past few days? By the dark circles around your eyes, I'd say no."

"Martha-"

"You can't be responsible for her all the time," she said, firmly. "And you're no good to her if you don't take care of yourself." She sighed. "What if we take it in shifts? I'll watch her first."

This surprised him. "You would do that?"

"Yeah. I'll just text Mickey and let him know."

"Mickey?" The Doctor was momentarily confused. "Oh right. He was here for a bit, wasn't he?"

"He was-"

"What are you doing hanging round with Mickey Smith?" he asked, mildly surprised but being too tired to connect the dots.

"We've actually, well..." This was awkward. "We've sort of been dating."

The Doctor was floored. "Well that's...That's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant, really. I'm very happy for you. Mickey Smith and Martha Jones? Really?" He said this last part as if sort of contemplating it.

"Yes really. He's actually been great-"

"And so this is...this is his place, then? Must be new."

"Well actually, he's just asked if I'd like to move in with him."

"And would you?"

She hesitated. "It's not that I wouldn't. It would be quite nice, I think. I just haven't worked out how it would work yet. I like having my own space and this would be...Well, it would be big. Mickey was beside himself, you know, when you got here the other day, thinking something happened to Rose. I think he's worried and...Well, maybe you should talk to him. Clear the air."

He thought about this. "No, I'd rather not."

This surprised her. "Doctor-"

"It's just that it's a bit fresh, Martha," he said, definitively. "I'd really rather not think about it. But assure him that Rose is fine. Safe. Happy. She's happy with another version of me in Pete's World. There's really nothing else to say."

...

Ginger awoke the next morning and was surprised to find Martha in the chair where the Doctor usually sat. She was reading a book, but looked on the brink of falling asleep.

"I gotta be real with you," Ginger said. "You're not the Doctor I was expecting to see, but you've got chill bedside manner so I'll take it."

"I told him he needed to get some sleep," Martha said, giving up on the book entirely. "It wasn't good for him to be constantly on watch."

She hadn't meant for it to sound accusatory, but they both heard it that way.

"Yeah," Ginger said evenly. "You're probably right."

It was a neutral statement, an acknowledgement. Ginger was suddenly realizing how strange the situation really was, and what it must look like from the outside.

The Doctor remembered that Ginger often complained of feeling bitchy if she didn't have a sugary breakfast, so he brought her french toast with strawberries and hot chocolate for breakfast. He'd brought enough for Martha to have some too. 

"Good, you're awake," he said, coming into the room and setting the tray down. "Breakfast for everyone."

"I'll take mine to go, if you don't mind," Martha said, rubbing her eyes. "I'm beat."

"Alright," the Doctor said. "Oh that reminds me. I wanted to talk to you in the hallway. About that thing. You know the one."

Martha picked up a plate from the tray and followed him out of the door. "Subtle," she said. "But you look better. Got some sleep?"

"Some."

"If it helps, she slept through the night. Pretty soundly, from the looks of it. No incidents. She's doing almost suspiciously well."

He nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her, you go get sleep."

"Alright," Martha said. "Just be careful, alright? When I say suspiciously well, I mean suspiciously. She's just got through a suicide attempt. She could relapse in a second once she crashes."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He sent her on her way and returned to the room to find that Ginger had already begun eating. To his surprise, she was smiling and laughing at something.

"It wasn't subtle," she laughed. 

The TARDIS whirred back. _Give him some credit, though, he is trying._

"And _failing," _Ginger giggled. "Like I know they're talking about me, but at least I can comfort myself knowing how bad he is at pretending they're not." She spotted him. "Doctor! You didn't tell me your TARDIS is so funny!"

The Doctor was pleased that she was smiling and laughing, but still he frowned. "You can understand her?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because she's a TARDIS. She's speaking TARDIS language."

"And don't the translators work on that?"

"No. You have to learn to speak TARDIS, and even then the specific dialect is tuned to be mostly unintelligible without a psychic connection to the specific TARDIS. You shouldn't be able to speak it."

Ginger shrugged. "Well I guess I'm just brilliant, then. I've always been good with languages."

The Doctor wanted to run more diagnostic tests and thought now would be a good time to bring up the previous scans, but he couldn't bring himself to. She was barely awake after being in a coma. Telling her too much right now might make her feel worse. Instead he sat down and took a plate.

She peered at him while she continued to eat. "You look less like hell today," she acknowledged.

He was struck by her phrasing and found it funny. "I'd say the same to you," he teased. "Except I know you're just hell shaped like a person."

"Absolutely fair," she grinned.

He picked up the remote. "What do you feel like watching?"

"Sabrina the Teenage Witch?" she offered.

Sometime later that afternoon, the Doctor decided he needed to say something that had been on his mind. They'd been watching a scene of some TV show and it got to a kissing part and he was reminded of it yet again.

"I really am sorry, you know, about what happened in the Maze. I think I was just...I was mixed up at the time. It had been playing mind games with me and had me all turned around. That doesn't give me an excuse though."

Ginger was silent for a moment as she let this sink in. "You, uh..." She sighed, clearly uncomfortable with this conversation. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't? But I thought that's what this was all about? That I kissed you."

"Because I kissed you first. Twice, actually."

"You were being mind controlled. I was taking advantage when I knew you were fragile and-"

She shook her head. "No you weren't. I know I might've...accused you of that but...Look, I was mixed up too. The Maze played with us both and I let it get the best of me. I needed space to figure myself out after that, sure, but...I shouldn't've let you feel guilty about it. I've been acting like a total insane-o."

"In your defense, you always act like a 'total insane-o'."

He was surprised when she just smiled softly to herself and didn't swat him for that comment. "Yeah," she agreed. "And there are reasons I don't want to talk about."

"You don't need to justify it," he said, softly. "It's alright."

**30th December**

Martha was becoming concerned. She was glad that Ginger was beginning to feel better, but her dynamic with the Doctor was...troubling.

"I think Ginger's doing well enough that she can get out of bed tomorrow," Martha told the Doctor while he was in the kitchen making some sandwiches.

He sighed with relief. "I'm so glad. Thank you, Martha, for all your help."

"I'm willing to admit I was wrong assuming she was an addict. She's shown no signs of withdrawal. But what's your next move? I hope you're going to find her a qualified psychiatrist to help her."

He hesitated. "I can't do that. But she'll be alright, I think she's all better now."

"I'm not so sure. You don't just bounce back from a suicide attempt. She's in a fragile state of mind-"

"Which is why I'm watching out for her."

"That's a bandaid solution at best. I'm sorry to say this, Doctor, but I don't like what I'm seeing. You showed up out of nowhere on Christmas morning in the middle of some kind of meltdown-"

"Meltdown?" he chuckled to himself, putting down the butter knife and turning around to face her. "Who was melting down? Ginger might've been a bit Chernobyl at the time, but there's been nothing to worry about with me."

"She might have been Chernobyl, but you were going the way of Three Mile Island."

He just looked at her patiently. "Three Mile Island didn't end up actually melting down."

"Which is my point. Crisis was narrowly averted. Which in your case was getting Ginger stable and having her wake up. But what if she had died on Christmas? You were going nuclear, Doctor, I've never seen you like that. Or if she'd just stayed in the coma? Would you have just sat there waiting for her to wake up until the end of time? And now? She's well enough to pack up and leave tomorrow. What happens when she's left and you're both on your own again?"

"I..." He had to admit he'd been trying not to think about this.

"I don't think this is good for either of you. On the one hand, she shouldn't be left unsupervised and untreated at this stage. On the other hand, the two of you are exhibiting signs of codependency."

He scoffed at this idea. "Martha, how can we be codependent? We rarely see each other! Before Christmas I hadn't heard from her in over a week!"

"I've seen you two together," she said, firmly. "You've been through a serious trauma together so now you've formed an unhealthy bond."

He got slightly defensive at this. "Oh I see what this is. You're jealous. Martha Jones sees that I've got a new companion I give a lot of attention to and feels left out again. Maybe you should give your new boyfriend this level of concern instead of throwing unfounded accusations at me." Martha's mouth fell open and the Doctor instantly realized that he'd crossed a line. "I'm sorry, Martha, I didn't mean that, I'm just under a lot of stress lately, not that that's an excuse-"

"No, no," Martha eyed him coolly and held up a hand to placate him. "That just proves my point. Doctor, it doesn't even matter at this point that what you just said was wildly untrue because at this point I'm way beyond letting that bother me. If you were at all the man you were when we first met you'd _never _have said anything that cruel. I thought I'd changed a lot in these last few years, but you evidently have too. I don't have to put up with this, so I'm gonna go check on the patient. I'd advise you to really take a good look at yourself lately and decide if you like the person you're becoming."

...

"Well if it isn't Madam Pomphrey," Ginger said as Martha entered the room.

"You seem to be in a better mood," Martha said, reading a blood pressure cuff.

"Yeah, well, Doc has prescribed hot chocolate several times daily and I'm running off a sugar high."

"You don't seem jittery though," Martha said absently as she checked Ginger's blood pressure.

"I don't do jittery," Ginger explained. "Think of it like I start off on empty every day, brain on zombie mode - just lashing out at everything and not really thinking. Then I get my sugar and my higher brain functions return. I get back to a healthy baseline."

"Well your blood pressure is still slightly low, but I figure that's probably your baseline. I think you're ready to check out tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Ginger asked, surprised and suddenly nervous.

"Yeah, I mean, no sense keeping. Figure you've had your Mandrake juice so you're not petrified anymore. You'd want to get back to you life."

"Yeah, if you'd call it that," Ginger grumbled to herself before catching what Martha had said. "Wait. Was that a Harry Potter reference?"

"You started it."

"Martha's actually quite the Harry Potter fan herself, Ginger," the Doctor said, entering the room with a stack of board games. "Maybe in better circumstances the two of you could've been friends."

"Yeah maybe," said Martha.

"Martha, actually, I was wondering if you wanted to stick around and play _Cluedo _with us."

"I love _Clue!" _Ginger exclaimed, excitedly. "I always used to play Miss Scarlet until I watched the movie with Madaline Kahn and Tim Curry."

"Knowing you, you're Mrs White now?" the Doctor teased.

"Well, it's a matter of life after death," Ginger teased, a slow smile creeping across her face. "Now that he's dead, I have a life."

"She always picks the Madeline Kahn character," the Doctor said fondly, as an aside to Martha. "This version is actually _Harry Potter _themed, though. Would you like to stay and play with us?"

"Under normal circumstances, I would," Martha said. "But I think I'd better get home. I'm a bit tired. I'll come check on you tomorrow, Ginger." And Martha left them alone again.

"Who do you want to play as?" the Doctor asked Ginger, assuming it would be either Hermione, Ginny, or Luna. He decided to tease her. "I'm assuming Ginny."

"Actually no," Ginger replied, rolling her eyes. Even this gesture felt different from her now. Gone were the days of rolling her eyes with attitude. Now she just seemed amused. "I'd actually like to play as Harry. I always felt very personally connected to him."

"Really?" he asked, both interested and surprised. "I would've assumed you'd be more of a Hermione person, if I'm being honest."

"Oh if I could play any part as an actor, it would be Hermione," she replied, matter of factly. "I'm just saying that Harry and I have a deeper bond. So I'm taking the Harry game piece. What about you? Ron or Neville?"

"Oh Luna all the way!" he laughed. "What, like you're the only one who doesn't care about genders here? I always admired Luna, though I think the films mischaracterized her as naive when she was anything but. She simply preferred to have a positive outlook on life. Often thought I'd like a bit of a Luna aesthetic someday in a future regeneration, but it never happened."

She liked him so much in that moment. "Luna aesthetic how? Book or movie?"

"Movie. I think I could pull off blonde."

After she completely crushed him at Clue, he brought out the Wizard Chess set he'd gotten in the 22nd Century that actually had moving animatronic pieces. She'd never played chess before, so he had to teach her. Admittedly, she wasn't very good at strategy games, but she had a lot of fun with it. The same could be said about him later teaching her how to play Magic the Gathering.

"I'm such a total cliche," she said, after picking out her Planeswalker. "I could pick someone with more strategic advantages or even that chick with the flames who looks like fashion goals...But I go for the aesthetic of goth chick who raises the dead."

"Liliana Vess is a good character, if you just know how to play her," the Doctor said, amused. "Embrace your inner goth chick."

Ginger's complete lack of strategic skill meant that she didn't know how to play her, but she had a damn good time losing. She found herself on her last legs, in a standoff where Liliana's army of the dead had been utterly destroyed and she was all that was left. She was completely surrounded on all sides by four of the Doctor's men (who she kept calling Jolly Green Giants) and was only an inch away from death, when she unleashed a spell that destroyed all of them in one swoop. She died on the Doctor's next turn, but rather than this disappointing or annoying Ginger, it only made her laugh.

"I took so many of your guys with me," she explained. "It made for a damn good story. I'm the villain who needed defeating so you backed me into a corner and I burned out in a blaze of glory. I don't care so much about losing the game, I'm just glad to play it."

"You think of yourself as a villain who needs to be defeated?" he asked her.

Her smile faltered a bit. "Well back me into a corner, why don't'cha? The villain's the more interesting character anyhow."

He finally looked up and realized he'd spent the entire day here. "I should go and let you finish resting," he said, reluctantly. He'd had such a good time that he'd forgotten for a few hours that there was anything to worry about and now it was coming back to him. "Martha says you're well enough to get out of bed tomorrow."

"Oh," she said, seeming to realize the time with surprise. "Yeah, I mean, I'm not tired yet but I'm sure you have things to do."

"Yeah, things," he said. "Important time traveler stuff, you know. Gotta make sure my ship is ship shape." They'd been playing at a small table and he now got up to leave the room.

"I actually think it's rather phone box shaped," she joked. "Maybe you should get that looked at."

"I've actually been meaning to," he admitted. "It's supposed to shift to match the environment, but it got stuck looking like this. I've actually grown sort of fond of it." There was a short pause. "It'll be New Years Eve tomorrow. I think that's sort of perfect, in a way. Getting you out into the world for new beginnings. Have you given any thought to where you'd like me to drop you off? I know you've got this whole punk rock independence thing going on and I'm trying to respect that but...I don't really like the idea of you squatting alone in that place-"

"Don't send me back," she blurted out, before she could stop herself. She realized she'd stood up and tried quickly to recover her composure. "I mean...Please. I don't want to go back to my old life. These last few days have been...Well, kind of better days than I'm used to and...I don't want to go. Please. If I go back there I'll have to face myself and I don't...want to do that."

"Maybe you should," the Doctor said. "What are you so afraid of?"

She swallowed hard. "Please, can't I just stay here with you? Haven't you ever...haven't you ever done things that you're...What I'm trying to say is...I've been running my entire life. I don't know how to stop. And the moment I did I...Well, if you hadn't found me, I wouldn't've survived it. Please don't make me stand still. Maybe...maybe you don't understand what that's like."

He looked at her, full of sorrow that someone so young could understand this so deeply. "I do understand. I've been running for such a long time from some...horrible things. I've never stopped. And I don't want to. But I was told recently that I'm destined to die." This felt quite heavy, this admission, so he took a fraction of a second to let it sink in. "I was told that my song is ending, and it's supposed to be ending now. But I took a detour to save you first. I really...I really don't want to die. That's why I was so frustrated with you trying to end your life, because I'd give anything to have more time but...I guess I have to do the right thing and stop running from fate. Let the song end gracefully."

She looked at him, not sure why she felt so broken up about this. "Who told you this? That you're supposed to die?"

"An Ood."

She scoffed. "An Ood? That sounds fake, Doc."

He smiled, sadly. "I'm afraid it's written in stone."

"So what? You're just gonna let some Ood tell you what to do?" She came around the table to look him right in the face. "Doctor, you saved my life and now I'm going to save yours. You don't want to do this, you've said as much. Don't just give in to this! Let's run away, and not look back. I look out for you, you look out for me. Nothing can kill us if we stick together."

"Suddenly you don't want to die?"

She rolled her eyes. "Like this is suddenly about me! I just don't want _you _to die! What are you doing bowing to idle threats anyway?"

"It wasn't a threat, it was a prophesy. I've been told several times now. He will knock four times."

She was stubborn and unwilling to budge. "Alright, well, anyone comes to the door, I'll just cut their hands off myself. Whether it's some kind of Ood assassin or Jehovah's Witness or - or a fuckin' girl scout! I'll just lop the hands right off, grab a box of cookies, then we make a break for it, yeah? Run away, don't look back. I'm still listening to music that was popularized long before I was born - I'm not about to let your song end." She took his hands in both of hers, without even realizing she was doing it. "Please, Doctor. I don't want to be alone anymore. Let's just keep running. Allons-y and all that."

And it was the shock of the sudden physical contact with the vulnerability of those words that finally did it for him. "Yeah. Yeah you're right. Allons-y!" He pulled himself free from her, which was when she noticed they'd been touching in the first place. She clasped her hands behind her back. He simply continued jabbering as if he hadn't noticed. "Why let anyone tell us what to do? We're _much _too punk rock for that-"

"Oh I don't know if I'd say that," she laughed, relieved. "Me, yes. You, well...Not so much." She gestured vaguely at his general appearance.

"That's right! We rebel! Defy fate! Wasn't there some _Angel _thing about that?"

She laughed again. "Winifred Burkle. Screw destiny!" she shouted.

"Screw destiny!" he echoed, impassioned. "This is gonna be brilliant!"

"I'm gonna need to back and grab my things, though-"

He waved this off. "Don't be silly, you're still supposed to be resting. In fact, get back in bed this minute! I'll go back to the theatre and pack your things for you!"

"There's not much to pack," she admitted, taking a seat on the cot. "All of my things are packed to leave at a moment's notice in my bag. Just be sure to grab my laptop."

"I'll be right back," the Doctor said, excitedly. "You rest, I'll handle everything."

...

Mickey was having a hard time with the TARDIS being parked in the backyard at all times. Martha was spending quite a lot of time over there lately, and up until now had chosen not to vocalize concerns. But Martha had returned today in an agitated state and had immediately gone to take a nap. She'd awoken several hours later.

"You've been spending quite a lot of time over with the Doctor," Mickey said, while they were eating dinner.

"Yeah," Martha said, absently. "He's leaving tomorrow though. Ginger's passed all the physical tests I've given her, so she's been cleared for release. Then he's out of our hair." She put down her fork. "I should actually get back over there." She got up.

"Why? You're exhausted, babe."

"I am. More exhausted than you know. But I need to check on the patient again. Just to be sure."

"You sure this is not all just an excuse to not have to be alone in the same room as me?" he asked, standing up just as she was reaching the door.

She paused, hand nearly to the doorknob before turning around. "Mickey. Why wouldn't I want to be in the same room as you?"

"Because I asked you to move in. You haven't answered yet. Then he comes sauntering back in and well...Perfect excuse. You can go swanning off with him instead. Little old Mickey can't ever compete with that."

She was very patient as she answered. "Mickey, we've been over this. Yeah, I had a crush on him once, but that was years ago. I know you were hurt badly in the past, being made to feel second best to him - believe me, I've felt that too. But we're better than that. We're solid. I wouldn't give that up for the world. You have no reason to feel jealous."

He looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I know. I trust you, I do. I just wanted to hear it out loud."

She smiled and crossed the room to kiss him. "That's alright. I'll be back soon. Then it can go back to just being the two of us, alright?"

...

Martha went to check on Ginger and was surprised when she was told that the Doctor wasn't in, but had decided against inquiring where he'd gone. She did the brief checkup, assured Ginger she could check out the next day, and then asked if the Doctor would be back soon.

"Yeah, should be any minute," Ginger said. "Surprised you didn't see him on the way out. He's gone to pack my things. I'm gonna be travelling full time now."

"Is that so?" she asked.

"Yeah. Why? Is that not good?"

"No it's...it's wonderful. It's an amazing life, and I wouldn't take it back for anything."

"...But?"

"But the things you see...It can actually ruin your whole life. I don't know anyone who escaped this life with their life intact. Rose Tyler and her whole family are in another universe, Donna Noble lost her memories...and then there's me and everything that happened to my family. It can almost break you. So you have to be careful not to let it ruin your life."

"That's the thing," Ginger said. "It can't ruin my life. My life was ruined the day I was born. It can only get better from here, right? I've just gotta get out of here. Go somewhere where I can be free and nobody will ask any questions."

Martha just looked at her strangely. "You are so much like him sometimes. Maybe he's finally found an equal. Someone as lonely as he is." She blinked. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't've said that."

"No, it's fair."

"Can I make a suggestion though?" Martha said, tentatively. "I really do think you should see a real doctor. A psychiatrist, I mean."

She shook her head. "No."

"I'm just saying-"

"I mean it, no. I won't do it. I don't like doctors."

"Why?" Martha asked. "What happened?"

"A lot," Ginger admitted. "And most of it, I'm not even willing to talk about. But let's just say that last time I was in a hospital, it was during the Miracle. I was Category 1. Barely escaped with my life."

"The Miracle?" Martha asked. "Category 1? What does any of that mean?"

Ginger was confused before it hit her. "Wait...What year is it?" The TARDIS whirred. "Oh. 2009. So. The Miracle hasn't happened yet."

"What is it?" Martha asked. "What's the Miracle?"

"Never mind. Don't let me spoil it for you. Just...try to be one of the good ones. Because it's gonna get bad and I'd hate to see the Doctor's reaction to you being prosecuted as a war criminal." She turned over on her cot so that he back was facing Martha. "Don't like Doctors."

Martha knew that Ginger wouldn't say another word, so decided to leave her to it.

...

The Doctor returned with Ginger's bags in tow to find Martha waiting in the TARDIS control room. He dropped the bags to the floor. "Martha. Hello."

"I just popped in to check on Ginger," she said. "Didn't see you when I came in."

"I must've been setting up that thing for her when you came in," he replied.

"Yeah heard she's travelling full time now. I mean, at least you're not totally abandoning her but I'm. Well, it's none of my business."

"Martha, about what I said before. It was out of line. You've been the best of all my companions, truly. One of my best friends. You always do the right thing even when it means putting your own feelings aside and sacrificing so much. I had no right to lash out at you the way I did. You have amazing instincts and I should trust you. I do trust you." Then he had an idea. "You should come with us!"

She was caught off guard. "What?"

"I'm serious! You're right I've been...changing too much. And I don't like that person. But if you come with us then it will all be perfect! You'll keep me in line!"

"Wait, wait, slow down," Martha said, holding up a hand. "I'm not getting swept up in this again. I have Mickey."

"He'll still be there when you get back-"

"No you don't understand," she replied, firmly. "I love him. I'm not being another person to leave him behind and make him feel second best. You don't know how hard it was for us to leave you two. You'd chosen Rose and she'd chosen you. We were collateral damage, always left behind. And I was genuinely happy that you were going to be happy, even if it wasn't with me. If you'd come back then with this whole situation and I'd had to see that you'd chosen someone besides Rose and it wasn't me...I would've been shattered. But I'm over it now. We're over it. Mickey and I found each other. We've moved on from the absolute chaos you and Rose lived in, Doctor. And that was nothing compared to whatever it is you're getting yourself involved in now. I'm not here to be your moral compass. You're a grown man, you've got to keep yourself in line. Doctor, I'll always be your friend and I'll always care about you. But this is over. I've just figured out what I want."

...

The Doctor returned her to her back garden and in the doorway of the TARDIS she decided she had one more thing to say to him.

"Doctor, please just think about finding someone trained to help with Ginger. I'm very worried about what I'm seeing with you two. Sometimes just ignoring your problems is the worst possible thing you can do."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

...

Martha came inside to see Mickey waiting for her.

"Where've you been?" he asked. "Heard the TARDIS go."

"Yeah, sorry," Martha said. "He didn't know I was in there when he took off. I made him take me home. Listen, Mickey, we need to talk. I don't think we should move in together."

"Yeah I thought you might say that," he replied.

"You're not letting me finish. I don't think we should _just _move in together. I think we should get married."

"What?" he asked, eyes widening.

"Yeah," she grinned. "I was scared, I'll admit that. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm very independent. I like my own space and my own things and I couldn't imagine myself ever being anywhere permanent with someone. But I'm not scared anymore. I've realized today that I don't want to be apart from you, not ever again. You're my first choice, Mickey Smith. And I'm not gonna leave you. Do ya wanna get married?"

He laughed. "Yeah! Yeah, let's get married!" He kissed her. "This isn't moving too fast?"

She shook her head. "Our lives are so chaotic and I'm not going to let us waste even a second."

...

The Doctor was mulling over all that Martha had said, and he could see maybe she had a point even if he didn't want to admit it. He didn't really know Ginger, after all, and their relationship this far had been confusing at best and tumultuous at worst. Maybe he was letting herself rush into things too quickly. Maybe this was all an excuse he'd been looking for the whole time to keep himself from having to face his fate.

He picked up her backpack and was just starting to lug it towards the infirmary when it split open at the bottom and all her personal items came tumbling out. Most of it was just clothing that fell in a heap, but he saw something metal come loose and fall through the slats on the floor. He swore under his breath and opened a hatch, determined to find the mysterious little glinting object.

He found it pretty quickly. He scooped it up by the little chain it was on and held it up to the light to examine it better. His eyes widened as he realized what he was looking at, and he quickly fished his glasses from his pocket so he could get a closer look.

It was a tiny brass fob watch, clearly very worn with a great many scratches and dents on its surface. But more important than that was the distinct, very recognizable Gallifreyan symbol on its surface.

"That's impossible," he breathed. He had a brief moment of wondering whether this could be one of his, but then remembered the marking on this one and knew that it wasn't. This fell from Ginger's bag. So the question had to be. "How does Ginger have a Gallifreyan Biodata Module?"

He began pacing, mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do. "Maybe she found it somewhere...Unlikely, but a possibility. If this is hers, though...That would make Ginger Gallifreyan. And she might not even know. In fact," he peered back down at the marking on the front. "It's most likely that she doesn't. But she always says she doesn't feel human! Could she know more than she's letting on or is that just an internal sense of feeling out of place? Oh but that's silly. She can't be a...All of them are dead. And the last one I met, well, he wasn't too friendly. If I woke her up, she could be trouble." He thought about this some more. "But she's full of Artron energy - even more than would be normal for a Time Lord. And some of her brain structures _are _distinctly Gallifreyan...But a Chameleon Circuit would change those to be indistinguishable from a human's, so I really don't understand...But do I tell her? It's not fair to leave her in the dark about who - or what - she might be. The only way to know for sure is to open Pandora's Box myself..." He stopped just short of doing that. "But no. If she is a Time Lord, then it's not fair to her to open this without her consent. She's too fragile after what's just happened and who knows what can of worms could be in her real memories! But putting her through regaining this identity could add more trauma if she's not ready to face it." Then he stopped and looked at the symbol once more. He suddenly recognized it, not just as Gallifreyan, but also for the very specific meaning it held. "Oh. Of course. None of this makes sense, but if this is hers...Then she definitely doesn't know. She can't."

He returned the fob watch to the container with all of her things, resolving himself to not tell her...yet. But this also settled something else: He couldn't just leave her. Not right now. He had to be there to help Ginger get better. Then he'd tell her everything. Leaving her at this stage when she was so fragile...Well, that would just be irresponsible. He just needed some time.

...

The Doctor entered the infirmary with Ginger's smaller bags balanced on top of the box with her things in it. He was taking the rest of the bags elsewhere, but wanted to drop her laptop off on the way.

"What's this?" Ginger asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Her royal highness's matched luggage!" he exclaimed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support this year! I'll see you all next year!


	28. New Year

When the Doctor showed up in the infirmary on New Years Eve, Ginger was already awake and talking with the TARDIS.

"But why?" she laughed. "Did he _really _think that would work?"

_Even the smartest of beings can be incredibly stupid at times._

"More like he's incredibly stupid all of the time," Ginger chuckled.

"Oi!" he said. "You two are getting too chummy. Not sure I like it."

"She doesn't have many friends, Doctor," Ginger pointed out. "The language barrier prevents it."

_It's good to have somebody else to talk to for once._

Ginger looked him over. "You didn't bring breakfast. This is a dangerous decision you've made, Time Lord."

"That's because we're going out to get breakfast today!" he said. "Come on! Up and at em! Got something to show you first!"

She struggled to keep up with him as he lead her down the hallway. "What's your deal?" she asked, laughing. "You've been jittering like a pygmy puff with a sugar rush since the moment I woke up!"

"It's a surprise," he said, with a smile.

"As a Radiohead fan, I'm going to have to ask you to refrain from attempting to surprise me."

"That was a weak joke, and you know it." He stopped in front of a door that she'd never noticed before. "Before I show this to you, I want you to know that it's completely yours. I made it entirely for you to use and I'm not allowed without your permission." He dug something out of his pocket. "This is yours." He pressed a key into her hand.

"I don't understand," she said, slowly.

"I figured since you don't want to go back there, I could give you a place to stay. As long as you want to, of course." He added. "Normally my companions don't need keys to their own rooms, but I'm trying to show you that I trust you and you can trust me to respect your space. This is the only key, and it's completely yours. You can lock the door and tell me to go away if you want to. It's your space to do with as you will, unconditionally. Now go ahead. Unlock it."

"I've never...I've never had my own room before," she said.

She was stunned as she unlocked the door. She took a few experimental steps inside, marveling at this thing that had just been gifted to her. It was spacious, but also cozy. The walls were covered in posters of every variety - Garbage, Harry Potter, Buffy...It seemed everything she'd ever expressed an interest in. Fairy lights in all kinds of colors hung from the ceiling, and the various other side tables and shelves had lava lamps on them.

"There's a bed!" she exclaimed, shocked.

"I saw no point in you continuing to sleep on an air mattress," he admitted.

It was a loft bed adorned with black sheets and a Marauder's Map quilt and pillow set. Underneath the loft bed was a small desk.

"So what do you think?" the Doctor asked, a touch of nervousness creeping in. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," Ginger breathed, feeling the strange (and barely suppressed) urge to cry. "Doctor, I...I don't know what to say."

"Saying that you love it is quite enough," he assured her.

"Are these Funko Pops?" she asked suddenly, dashing to one of the two bookshelves. "I've always wanted some of these!" She started picking them up one by one. "Three different Harry Potters! Hermione! Luna! Oh you've even got Buffy and Willow! Oh my God, Doctor! Is this Dr. Frank-N-Furter?"

"I thought it might be a safe assumption that you'd like _Rocky Horror_, yes," he replied, pleased by her response.

"This is….this is _amazing_," she said, clearly still stunned. "I've never had anything like this. But are you sure it's okay? I mean, this is your ship and I don't want to impose."

"I wouldn't've gone to all this trouble just to pull the metaphorical rug out from under you," he assured her.

She took a minute to let it sink in, a grin slowly taking over her face while she was powerless to stop it. She squealed a bit suddenly, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a fangirl at a concert. "Thank you!" she exclaimed. "This is really the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me!"

He was so pleased by her excited response that it didn't even occur to him until later that she found the gift of her own room to be nicer than having her life saved.

"I even made sure it was close to the control room," he said, evidently pleased with himself. "You kept complaining about getting lost in here, so I wanted it to be a non-issue."

"I am very directionally challenged," she admitted.

"I figured you'd want to unpack yourself. Didn't want to seem like I was going through your stuff. The walk in closet is through there. It's also bigger on the inside," he added. "So you're staying?"

She grinned. "You couldn't get rid of me now if you tried!"

"It has its own private bathroom," he said, pointing to a door she hadn't noticed before. "Y'know, for privacy's sake. You've been on bed rest for the better part of a week now, so I figured you'd like to shower. Then we'll go to breakfast." He turned to go.

"Wait!" she said. He turned back to her and she looked around and lowered her voice. "Did you know she sings? The TARDIS?"

The Doctor smiled. "Yeah I did. She sang to you?"

Ginger nodded. "I woke up and she was singing to me."

"Ginger?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you whispering?"

"I uh...I dunno." She realized how silly she was being. "Oh and I, uh...I wanted to ask...I thought I heard someone singing to me. While I was still, you know...in a coma. But it wasn't the TARDIS. Were you, uh...singing to me?" She couldn't stand to think about this any longer. "Never mind just, uh...go away. I'm gonna unpack and take a shower."

...

She unpacked and showered quickly. She was quite amused when she realized that he'd somehow got her a Spiderman-themed toothbrush and floss set. 

In the meantime, the Doctor thought it best to place a phone call to Alex. He was realizing that maybe he should've called her by now, since the last time she saw him he hadn't exactly been in the best state of mind. 

She picked up on the first ring. "Doctor?" Her voice was shaking with relief that she was trying very hard not to show.

He smiled. "That's right. It's me."

"You're alive?"

"For the moment. It's a long story. I know that I was worrying you last time I saw you, but I'm alright. Really. And I'll pop round as soon as I can, alright?"

"That'll be good, yeah."

"How's Kira?" he asked.

She hesitated. "Kira's good," she said. "Really good. Her gran is sick so she flew to Japan to be with her over Christmas. Don't expect her back for a few days."

Ginger walked into the room and he found himself suddenly distracted. She was wearing a Weasley sweater with a big "G" on the front of it, black jeans, a Gryffindor beanie, and a leather jacket. He couldn't help but smile. "That's good," he said, absently. "Listen, I'll call you back later. Got to go. Bit busy, you know me. I just wanted to be sure you weren't worrying. You good?"

"I'm good," she said. "Oh and Doc?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy New Year. In case I don't get to say it tomorrow."

He smiled. "Happy New Year." He hung up the phone.

"Alright, I'm starving," Ginger said instantly. "I request food this second or there's gonna be trouble."

The Doctor smiled at the sight of the ultra-cozy outfit she was wearing. "Is that you, Mo-Dean?" he asked.

She sighed, exasperatedly but fondly, and just gave into it. "It's me, Mo-Dean." She gestured about. "I woke up in the belly of a big ol' UFO." She bounded forward playfully and grabbed hold of the edge of the control panel. "Now hurry up and get me food!" she groaned, before referencing the B-52's song once more. "To the bus! To the plane!"

He joined her on the last few lines, as he started throwing switches to get them airborne. "To the UFO - _and to outer space, baby!"_

She laughed to herself, letting herself actually marvel at how this was happening. She was really on a spaceship, bound for who knows where! It was honestly something she'd only dreamed of!

"Baby yeah, take me away," she breathed one more line of the song to herself, gazing around the TARDIS in anticipation.

"Right, then!" the Doctor clapped his hands as he finished setting his course. "New Years! Brilliant holiday, New Years! Always loved the distinctly human sentimentality of looking at a planetary revolution and thinking that gives them a new beginning! Sort of daft, but sort of brilliant! I mean, it's not like you can't choose to change on any old day, is it? Or that people don't change every day by accident into newer, better, stranger people? And humans can't even choose a day to be their collective endpoint! It's all cultural and entirely arbitrary! Then they complain about not fulfilling their goals before even a single month has passed because they set the bar too high in the first place and put too much pressure on themselves to perform! Daft! Inspiring, but completely daft!" He noticed Ginger laughing at him. "What?"

"Nothing," she said.

"No, really, what?"

"Well, for want of a better term, Doc, you're daft. Brilliant, but completely daft."

...

The Doctor took her to IHOP, figuring correctly that this would satisfy her.

"I remember the first time I ever saw an IHOP commercial," she said, as her plate was being put down in front of her. "I was probably 5 or 6. And it all looked so amazing. A total utopia where breakfast is served all day long. It became my dream to go to an IHOP someday."

"Quite a lofty ambition," he teased. "And how is it?" he asked, as she took her first bite.

"Perfectly perfect," was her contented reply.

...

"Alright," Ginger said, as they returned to the TARDIS. "Where to next? I assume you've got other plans."

"I do," he replied, throwing some switches. "But you don't, not dressed like that."

She looked down at her outfit in disbelief, before crossing her arms. "What's wrong with the way I dress? Oh I get it. This is punishment for me making you change into costumes."

"Possibly" he shrugged. "And there's nothing wrong with the way you dress. Actually, this is my favorite look of yours yet. But when I got these tickets I'd expected you to dress the way you normally do."

She raised her eyebrows. "The way I normally do?"

"Yeah, you know. All rock 'n' roll, like you grew a second skin of brightly colored fake leather."

"Wait wait," she seized on something else he'd said. "What tickets?"

"Well you'll have to change to find out, won't you?"

...

"Welcome to the Ritz!" the Doctor said, gesturing grandly. "We'll be seeing two shows here tonight! Well, not tonight, technically. Over two different nights. But we'll do them both within hours of each other so it counts."

"Alright, Doctor, I'll play this game," Ginger said, amused. She'd changed into a black leather dress and black and white striped tights, and also applied a bit of red lipstick. "When are we?"

"New Years Eve, 1981."

"And who are we seeing?"

"Well I thought we'd start off with Joan Jett."

This surprised her. "You're joking!"

"No I'm not! I'd never joke about Joan Jett!"

"This is so _cool_!" she breathed. "And where to after?"

He smiled, slowly. "You'll just have to wait and see."

...

The Joan Jett concert was incredible. Ginger was a huge fan, so she had a fantastic time. The Doctor escorted her back to the TARDIS, where he announced they just needed to go to 1986 for the next show.

They were both wildly out of place at the next gig, but were both trying their best not to let each other know they were uncomfortable.

"The Cramps, Doctor?" Ginger said, surprised.

"Yeah, I remember you saying you liked them?" he replied, suddenly doubting himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I do," she shouted back, over the crowd. "I mean, I like what I've heard of them."

"You alright?" the Doctor asked, catching Ginger's slight recoil.

"Yeah, I'm good," Ginger lied. "But I understand if this crowd is too rough for you."

"They're a bit rough, aren't they?" the Doctor asked, nervously. "I'm fine, though."

"Wasn't expecting them to be so..." Ginger replied. "But what do I know, I only know four of their songs."

"Only four?" he asked. "So that's 'I Was a Teenage Werewolf', 'Human Fly', 'Goo Goo Muck', and...What's the other one?"

"'Tear It Up!'"

"Ah, well, that's one more song than I know by them."

"I'm impressed they have female band members," Ginger said. "I never looked into it, so I wasn't expecting it."

"You just think the redhead is hot."

"I mean..." she laughed. "He _did _introduce her as Poison Ivy. I have a type."

At that point, the lead singer got down on his knees and began humping the stage.

"You want to get out of here?" the Doctor and Ginger both asked each other, at the same time. For a moment they just stood looking at each other, smiling.

The Doctor then held out his hand. "So we don't get lost in the crowd on the way out?"

She shook her head apprehensively for a second before taking his hand. "Alright. Allons-y!"

If he'd thought that holding out his hand meant he'd be the one in control, he was mistaken. He found himself being pulled along by Ginger, who knew how to roughly push people out of the way to navigate a path to the exit.

...

"So where to now?" the Doctor asked, once they'd gotten out.

"I'm actually sort of hungry," Ginger admitted. It had been hours since IHOP.

"Yeah me too," he realized. "What do you feel like?"

"Sushi," she said. "I haven't had sushi in ages."

"That sounds good!" he replied. "And vegetarian spring rolls?"

"You read my mind!"

_No, if I could read your mind things would be a lot easier, _he thought.

...

"Do you not use chopsticks?" He asked, watching her handle her sushi by hand.

She shrugged. "I've tried. My motor skills are so poor that I'm likely to poke someone's eye out."

The Doctor thought that would be a good opportunity to talk about something he'd been wanting to talk about for ages, but she kept talking.

She'd picked up a fork and was dangling a piece of pickled ginger from it. "Hello, my name's Ginger. Just like you! We might be related."

If she'd bothered to look up from her plate at that moment, she would've found the Doctor smiling at her as if she'd just said something adorable. He'd completely forgotten what he'd wanted to say.

"So what was your motivation behind that little adventure we just had?" Ginger asked.

"Well, I knew I wanted to take you to New Years Eve concerts," he said. "Thought of the Ramones first, but didn't think you'd be into that."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Well, just, when anyone brings them up you talk about how influential they were and rattle off a few songs, but you don't have the same fanatic energy about them that you do about the bands you _really _love."

"Wow," she replied. "You really pay attention, don't you?"

"I'm perceptive," he shrugged. "Anyway, I thought you'd like Joan Jett better."

"Definitely the right move," she agreed. "But why did you think of the Cramps?"

"Well we've talked about them before and I thought you'd really like going to a show. I thought it might impress you to get you out to one of your cult punk shows. I've got to tell you, though, I've been to punk shows before and never saw anything like that..."

She laughed. "Yeah, it was a bit much for me too. I appreciate the thought. An utter failure of a thought, but still one of the most considerate things anyone has ever done. But there is a New Years Eve show I've always wanted to go to, if you're up for it."

"What would that be?"

"Amanda Palmer & the Grand Theft Orchestra at Terminal 5, 2012."

...

That ended up being the best show of the night, hands down. The Doctor only sort of half-way knew a few of the songs, but even so it was an incredible show.

Some time near the end of the show, some girl in the crowd offered them small brownies. They both took them gratefully, but Ginger said they should save them til after the show.

...

The Doctor waited for Ginger outside while she visited the merch table. She was taking a bit longer than he expected, so he went back inside of the venue to check on her. He was just in time to see her put her newly-purchased t-shirt into her bag. He began walking toward her when a good-looking young man with dark hair beat him to it.

"Hey," the man grinned, slyly. "Are you from Tennessee?"

Ginger looked as if she'd been punched in the gut. Her eyes widened and all the color drained from her face. The Doctor thought she looked almost scared, but also in some ways she appeared more threatening than he'd ever seen her.

"No," she said, a bit too quickly. "I've never been there in my life. You don't know me. I've got to go-"

The man was oblivious to her distress. "Because you're the only ten I see," he finished in a way that suggested he expected applause.

This made her pause, but only because she was confused and thrown off by the line. 

The Doctor could tell that she was uncomfortable and decided to step in. "Maybe you need glasses," he said to the man, crossing his arms and glaring at him. "I'd look harder if I were you. Plenty of tens here."

The man was visibly irritated by the interruption. "Who the hell are you? Can't you see I'm having a conversation with the lady?"

"Yeah, well, she's with me."

She looked at him sharply. "I am _not _with you-"

"I realized it as soon as I said it," he apologized. "I mean we came here together, but not _together _together-"

"You're making it worse," she groaned.

The man decided to make one last attempt at a move. "Listen," he said to Ginger. "If you're really not here together, let me give you my number." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Clearly he'd planned to pick someone up that night. "Maybe we can get together for pizza, movies, and sex." He leaned closer to whisper the last part. "Or maybe not the pizza and the movies."

The most surprising thing about this interaction wasn't that the Doctor hit him, it was that Ginger didn't. She just stood there, frozen in place. She was so stunned by this entire interaction and was feeling so much at once that she was overwhelmed. If the man had meant to flatter her, he hadn't. She was shocked, angry, disgusted...and, mostly, afraid.

"Don't talk to people like that!" the Doctor was shouting at the man. "What's wrong with you? Disgusting, is what that is! Don't you have any manners?"

She pulled on the Doctor's sleeve. "Doc, let's go." She was aware that they were making a scene and wanted to go back to the TARDIS.

"He can't just talk to you like that!" he exclaimed indignantly. 

"I know, but please," she insisted. "Let's go."

He looked at her and could see in her eyes how very close to a panic attack she was. All at once he remembered the reason they were here in the first place, and how very fragile she must still be. It had been a good many hours since either of them had thought about her mental state, but now it was all that was on their minds.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go."

...

Ginger was visibly nervous when they returned to the TARDIS.

"I don't know what came over me," he apologized. "I don't approve of violence, actually. I shouldn't've reacted like that."

"It wasn't very like you," she agreed. "It was a bit..." She wasn't looking at him. "I dunno, forget about it."

He wasn't sure what to do. "Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit?"

She looked up sharply. "No! I mean...please don't. I just...I dunno."

"Alright...What would you like to do then?"

She shrugged.

He felt so useless. "How about...some hot chocolate? That always makes me feel better."

He took the way her face lit up at the suggestion as an affirmation.

...

She took a sip of the hot drink and melted into it. "That's good," she admitted.

He smiled. "Better?" She didn't reply, but kept her eyes closed and contentedly sipped the drink. "Listen, about what happened back there...I just didn't like him talking to you like that. Actually, it's more than that. He kept going on even though you were giving all sorts of signals that you wanted him to stop-"

"I don't like people looking at me," she said softly.

"Sorry?"

"I don't like people looking at me. When I haven't given them permission to, I mean. I like to be in control of that. I'll put myself up on a stage and be somebody else, but just being me...I hate it. People have never looked at me as anything other than...and now suddenly...And I just can't handle that. I don't want to be looked at."

"I'll, eh...make a note of that," he said, casting his eyes away. "Are you alright though? We were having a nice time up until then."

She looked at him. "We were, weren't we?" She smiled. "Thank you for defending me. Nobody does that for me. I just hope I'm not, you know...turning you into a more violent person. Or something."

"Nah, you're not. It won't happen again. You normally defend yourself. I'm not used to seeing you like that."

"There's no reason to let that asshole spoil our night. Can we watch a movie or something?"

He was relieved. "What did you have in mind?"

"I dunno, just put something on," Ginger said. "I'll meet you in the den when I've changed into something more comfortable." She realized the implication as she said it. "I didn't mean - I mean. Ugh!" She threw her hands in the air in frustration. "Why does everything in the English language have to be so twisted? I'm going to throw on some sweat pants and meet you in 10, alright?"

He chuckled. "Alright."

...

Ginger joined him in the den not long after that and sat on the sofa next to him.

"Have you ever seen Bojack Horseman?" the Doctor asked.

Ginger looked at him skeptically. "Isn't that one of those stoner comedies? I'm not really into adult animation. It's like an excuse to be crude and offensive for the sake of being crude and offensive. It's like, newsflash, South Park! Every kid on the playground made the same jokes about Asperger's, you're not being original! And newsflash, Family Guy! What you're doing to Meg is literally abuse and I'm not laughing!"

The Doctor took this as a good sign. "I never liked those shows either. But Bojack is really good. I think you'd really enjoy it. It's the kind of story you like."

She considered it then sighed. "Alright. I'll trust you. Only because you've had good taste so far."

...

They got a few episodes in before Ginger remembered something.

"Doctor, do you still have our brownies?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, just a sec." He fished the two small bags out of his deep pockets. "Time for a midnight snack?"

She laughed. "Yeah, suppose so."

"These are tiny, though," he said. "Hardly enough for a meal."

"Well yeah, you wouldn't want too much," she shrugged.

"Alright, suit yourself." They both ate their brownies in silence. He stayed sitting upright and she decided to lie down on the opposite side of the sofa. He made a face. "These taste sort of funny."

Ginger looked at him quizzically. "Well, yeah, that would be the pot, Doctor."

He swallowed the last bite of his. "The what, now?"

"These are pot brownies." Ginger just looked at him like he was insane. "I assumed you knew."

"I most certainly did _not _know!" He wasn't angry, just surprised.

"A girl at a concert handed us brownies, Doctor," Ginger giggled.

"I thought she was just being friendly!"

"She super was!"

"And you're just...Okay with this, then?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I mean, I haven't touched the stuff in years but figured, hey, what the hell! Could be fun! Wouldn't normally get on substances around people, but I trust you not to do anything shady. Weed isn't toxic to Time Lords or anything, is it?"

"No, it's just a little crude," the Doctor said. "I like a little warning, is all."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a child. It won't even kick in immediately, give it an hour."

"Wait...did you say that you trust me?"

She kicked him playfully. "Don't push it."

...

**1 Hour Later**

"Are you hungry? I'm hungry."

The Doctor squinted at her through hazy eyes. "Starving, actually," he replied. "What do you feel like?"

She shrugged. "Nothing fancy."

"That doesn't narrow it down a lot," he said. He sat up straight with a sudden excitement creeping into his eyes. "Oh I know! Restaurant at the End of the Universe!"

It was her turn to squint at him and push her glasses up. "Like from Douglas Addams?"

"Yeah!" He gleefully clapped his hands together. "They made a real one that's really sort of almost on the edge of the known universe at the time it was constructed! Real tourist trap, cheesy and fun! You'll love it!"

He watched as a reluctant smile crept over her features and she tried to suppress her own child-like glee at the idea. "No, I don't think so," she said finally. 

He was surprised by her refusal. "Why not? Too much of a gimmick?"

"Noooo," she assured him, stressing the word in a way that was oddly reminiscent of him when he was trying to be reassuring. "I love a good gimmick, you know that. Just it's a bit...I mean..." She bit her lip and looked at him apologetically out of the corner of her eye. "Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Doc? Sounds a bit too much like a, you know, a date."

"Oh," he said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Yeah," she said.

"I wouldn't want to imply..." he said.

"Yeah."

There was a short silence before he decided to finally come out with it. "Not that I'm implying, because it wasn't intended, but everything else we've done tonight...The concerts, the pancakes, the sushi..."

"Not a date," she said definitively.

"No, I know that," he said. "That's friends stuff, we were being friendly...but why is that all friends stuff and the Restaurant at the End of the Universe isn't?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "It just feels bigger. End game, sort of. I'm not making sense."

"You're rarely making sense," he teased.

He was pleased that she smiled back even as she looked to the ceiling. He wasn't disappointed that she hadn't taken any of this as a date. It hadn't even crossed his mind that she could interpret it that way. She was just his friend. That's all he wanted from her. 

"Snacks?" he offered.

"As many as you've got," she agreed.

...

They sprawled on opposite ends of the sofa with copious amounts of snacks between them.

"I hope Bojack and Diane don't end up together," Ginger said, out of nowhere.

"Why not?" the Doctor asked.

"He was like her childhood hero, it would be weird. Like Sarah Lynn weird. They can be friends though, friends are nice."

"Friends are the best. You're my best friend."

She pulled a face. "You're high."

"That's true. Don't think that lets you off the hook, though."

"Off the hook from what?"

"You said you trusted me earlier."

"Dude, I'm too high to argue with you about what I may or may not have said." She giggled. "I mean, for Topher's sake, Doc, why would you want to be my friend? Remember we made that clear right from the beginning that we weren't gonna be friends or anything. We're just strangers. And now suddenly we're BFFs?"

"You seem surprised that I'd want to be your friend."

"Nobody's ever wanted to be my friend before. Even when I was a kid, I always played alone or read a book or something."

"And that bothered you?"

"Not until I found out it was supposed to. I was totally totally fine being by myself because that meant I was being left alone. I was always so different, you know. Stuck out like a sore thumb." She held up her hand to examine it as she kept speaking. "I was totally fine being left alone. I wish nobody had ever told me that was supposed to be lonely. Then maybe I never would've figured out how to be lonely."

"I know what you mean," the Doctor replied. "I was like that too, as a kid. But I had a few friends. Well, mainly, just the one, but he had a lot of friends so we all tagged along."

"What was he like?" Ginger asked.

"Oh, you know...Brilliant. Charismatic. Bit daft."

"So...a lot like you, then?"

"Yeah, a lot like me." He smiled fondly to himself. "We used to get in all sorts of trouble, him and me. Like this thing you and I are doing right now...that was nothing compared to what Koschei and I would get ourselves into. We were nearly kicked out of the Academy several times, but we were geniuses even by Gallifreyan standards so we kept getting away with it."

"Sounds like you had a bit of a crush on him," Ginger teased him. She moved closer to him so she could nudge him playfully with her arm.

"Eh, well..." The Doctor stared off into the middle distance with a wistful look in his eye. "I won't pretend I wasn't interested, but at a certain point he liked me more than I liked him."

She sat up to look at him properly. "So what happened, where's he now?"

The Doctor's smile faded. "Well, you know, we grew apart after school. I started traveling more and he, well, he wouldn't really let that go. And he was always a bit more twisted than I was so...He started calling himself 'the Master'-"

"Oh, yeah, bit of a Hitler control freak type, was he? The Grindelwald to your Dumbledore?"

"Yeah," he said, sadly. "He hurt a lot of people. Then he died."

"Oh." Ginger felt as if all the air had gone from the room, but her head was still swimming with THC. "Sorry."

He shrugged. "It's fine. At least it is now."

"That would be the brownie, mate," she teased, again. "No matter how bad life gets, you can always escape with Mary Jane."

"You don't do this all the time, though?" he asked, sternly.

"First time in years, don't worry," she rolled her eyes. "Was a burn out as a teenager, though. I can admit that much."

He looked at her, a sorrow suddenly ballooning from inside his chest. "I'm really glad you're feeling better," he said. 

She smiled. "Doc, don't get sappy."

"I mean it. I was so scared when I thought I was losing you, and then scared that you were going to...I don't know, is relapse the best word? You know, after what happened tonight. You're my best friend. You make absolutely no sense and your brain is weird but when I think about what could've happened..."

Her eyes were wide as flying saucers as she gazed back at him. "Don't think about it then."

They found themselves sitting too close together again, that same strange gravity entering between them again.

The Doctor's phone began ringing and the two of them sat up properly as he got it out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

"It's Alex calling," the Doctor read the screen.

"You probably shouldn't answer it," Ginger said.

"Why not?"

"I have years of practice pretending not to be stoned, but you're a dead giveaway. Let it go to voicemail and she'll worry less."

"Good point." He put the phone back in his pocket. "Sorry, I'm not home right now. I'm walking into spiderwebs. So leave a message and I'll call you back."

"Stop doing that," Ginger said, grinning and closing her eyes as she sank back against the couch cushions.

"Stop doing what? Singing No Doubt?"

"I like you so much right now. Stop making me like you so much right now."

"I can't really help that," he teased. "I've been told I'm a delight. It's a gift."

"Well you should return it," she grumbled, sleepily.

"Anything else I can do to make it easier for you?"

"Yeah, stop wearing those glasses so damn much."

He laughed. "Maybe I will."

"Don't you dare, they're like 80% of the reason why I trust you. Like some weird childhood psychology thing - glasses remind child brain of Harry Potter, and Ginger trusts Harry Potter..."

He looked at her fondly. "Sounds like someone's getting sleepy."

"Am not!" she protested, still without opening her eyes. "Sleep is a girl's most vulnerable state, you know!"

"You don't have to worry about being vulnerable," the Doctor assured her. "It's alright to be vulnerable sometimes, if you choose the right people."

"Yeah, well," she said, voice starting to fade. "I'm still...not...sleepy..." She continued nodding off, and her head slipped onto his shoulder. "Maybe you're my best friend too...I haven't had one of those before so I don't...know how to tell..." And she fell asleep, head on his shoulder.

The Doctor was surprised by this gesture of absolute trust, but he didn't want to risk waking her up. So he stayed perfectly still. He worried, though. Every time she slipped up and showed an ounce of vulnerability, it led to her pulling away the moment she realized what she'd done. He didn't want this to end.

...

She woke up the next morning still leaning against him. She remembered the night before only as a blur, but couldn't seem to make herself regret a moment. Which was odd for her. She normally regretted the smallest of things. She was embarrassed that she'd shown so much vulnerability and trust, of course, but she was oddly fine with it. She shook him awake.

"Come on, Doc, up and at 'em."

He groaned as he regained consciousness. The memories of the night before came flooding back to him. He opened his eyes blearily. "You're still here?"

She smiled. "I told you. You couldn't get rid of me now if you tried. You're stuck with me."

The relief he felt was almost overwhelming. "Happy New Year, Scully."

She chuckled. "Happy New Year, Mulder."

He was the one to realize it first. "Isn't this the part where you get weirdly uncomfortable about the implications?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Why should I?"

"Because didn't they say 'Happy New Year' and immediately, y'know...Make out?" He seemed embarrassed to say the phrase.

"You're rewriting history, Doc," she chuckled. "They didn't 'make out'."

"They didn't?"

She shook her head. "No, if you'll remember, Mulder and Scully had that really disappointing kiss at that point. After years of build-up, and that's all we got. Anti-climactic."

He was amused at this response but also very surprised that she was so comfortable talking about this. "Alright, then. Guess you're right. Breakfast?"

She nodded. "You read my mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! It's super weird, because I didn't particularly enjoy most of the last decade, but now that we're here I don't know how to live in another decade. I guess that's a Ginger thing - we get stuck in decades and never quite leave.
> 
> I think I should say that the "pizza, movies, and sex" pick up line was a real line someone tried on me once and I responded by freezing up like Ginger did.
> 
> Anyway, I'm taking a two week hiatus from posting! I know, we're all disappointed, but isn't this actually the best cliffhanger I've ever left you on? Usually I leave you on an unpleasant note before taking a break. Thought I'd give you a treat here. I did promise that we'd go to some dark places, but I don't believe in the whole 'grimdark' thing. I believe in payoff for coming out the other side.
> 
> Anyway...See you in two weeks!


	29. Mad Girl

**January 18th, 2016**

Within seconds of the TARDIS materializing in the Smith's back garden, the doors were thrown open by a relieved Alex Mitchell.

"I heard the TARDIS all the way in the kitchen!" she explained. "You're back!"

"Course I'm back, I did promise, didn't I?" the Doctor grinned, amused by this whole interaction.

Alex hugged him rather aggressively before stepping back and punching him hard on the arm. "I've been worried sick about you! Just disappearing like that!"

"I'm sorry about that, really I am," the Doctor said. "I've just been busy."

"Doing what?" she asked. "What have you been doing that you couldn't even bother to send a text?"

Just then Ginger came in the room. On this day she was wearing a red and black checkered sweater vest over a black long-sleeved tee and black jeans.

"Doc, I think the replicator is broken," she complained, distractedly. She was looking down at a tub of Nutella that she was absently dipping her fingers in. "I asked it for Hello Panda, but it gave me a tub of Nutella." She put one of her Nutella-covered fingers in her mouth, looking up just in time to see Alex there.

"Oh," Alex said, putting her hands on her hips with a sly grin. "I see."

"Alex!" Ginger said, putting the lid on the Nutella and stowing it on the console. "What a surprise!"

"So I take it you two aren't fighting any more?" Alex asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm always fighting with him," she shrugged. "Which fight are we talking about?"

The Doctor didn't want to remind Ginger of anything that had gone on in December, so rushed to change the subject. "So how've you been, Alex? Must've been getting up to all sorts of things in the few days we were gone."

Alex raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Doc, I haven't heard from you in over two weeks."

"Really?" He rushed around to a monitor to check the time-space locator. "Oh. Sorry about that. I meant to materialize only a few days after the New Year..."

Ginger laughed. "You're a terrible driver. I keep saying that."

"Well do _you _want to drive?" he asked her, hands on his hips. 

Alex looked between the two of them, definitely a bit confused as to how they'd gotten to a point where Ginger was so comfortable. "How long has it been for you?" she asked.

The Doctor tried to recall. "Hard to say-"

"Two months," Ginger cut in. "Well, two months and a week, technically. Well, two months, a week, and two days." She rolled her eyes at the Doctor. "Wasn't _that _hard to say..."

Alex was definitely finding it strange that the Doctor didn't question her ability to know that, but instead only beamed at her. "You've been gone for two months?" she asked. "That's a...That's a long time."

The Doctor turned his attention back to Alex. "Sorry about that. Time just got away from us a bit."

"Didn't get away from me," Ginger insisted. "_I _know what time it is..."

The Doctor ignored her and stepped toward Alex. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to just disappear on you. I'm hoping you'll let me make it up to you?"

She didn't even have to think about it. "Yeah, of course."

He grinned. "Brilliant!" He clapped his hands together. "Now, what have you been up to?"

"Well," Alex said. "Kira's got back from Japan. Started classes again-"

"Wait, wait, wait." The Doctor put up a hand to stop her. "Kira's back?"

Alex shrugged. "Yeah."

"How's that been? Must've been glad to see her."

"I was. I _am_. Actually, I should warn you about that."

"Warn me about what?"

"We've all been going back and forth on if I should tell Kira about, well, everythin'. So I, well, I transcribed my stories. With names changed and everything. I gave them to her to read, sort of testing the waters to see how she'll handle it."

"That's sort of risky, isn't it?" Ginger cut in.

"Yeah. But I didn't see what option I have? It's hard to explain where I disappear off to all the time."

"How is she taking it?" asked the Doctor.

"I dunno yet. She said she'll drop by after she's finished reading the stories. I haven't told her they're real. Well, mostly real."

They were interrupted by the TARDIS doors flying open again. "Hey! I was around the corner and heard the TARDIS!"

"Beat you to it, old man," Alex grinned.

Jack started to laugh before his eyes fell on Ginger. "Ginger. You're here."

She looked at him, quizzically. "Let's leave that for the philosophers to debate," she chuckled, uncomfortably.

"I'm just...a little surprised to see you back," said Jack. "Not as surprised as I should be...but...It's good to see you."

She grinned. "You too, Captain. I'm not gonna salute though."

"You know she and the Doctor have been traveling together for over _two months_?" Alex complained. 

Jack raised his eyebrows at the Doctor. "Is that so?"

The Doctor became anxious that they were going to insinuate things that might make Ginger uncomfortable. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Which has to explain her hair," Alex said. "I mean, look at it. It's gotten a tiny bit longer, hasn't it?"

"It did!" Jack said. He hadn't noticed til Alex said something. "Not too much difference, so well-spotted, Alex! You're really coming into your superpowered lesbian senses - I couldn't be prouder!"

Ginger ran her fingers through her hair, only noticing for the first time that it was slightly longer. "Huh. I hadn't noticed."

"It _is_ a bit longer," the Doctor said, noticing himself. "Less season 5 Willow Rosenberg, more season 3 Dana Scully. Well, if Dana Scully never brushed her hair."

Ginger put her hands on her hips. "I brush my hair!" she laughed.

"Have you today?" he asked.

She thought about it. "Well, I might've! If I'd known we'd have company!"

Alex raised her eyebrows. "We?"

The Doctor became anxious again at how Ginger would respond.

Ginger recognized the implication and rolled her eyes. "Oh don't you start with me, Mitchell. I live here too now. Don't make it a thing."

The Doctor barely suppressed a sigh of relief.

"So, you know what we've been up to," Alex began.

"We don't know what Jack's been up to," the Doctor pointed out.

"We don't _want _to know what Jack's been up to," Ginger pointed out.

"So what have you two been up to for _two months_?" asked Alex.

"So much," Ginger admitted. "We saw the Phosphorous Carousel of the Great Magellan Gestadt - did I pronounce it right, this time?"

"No, you didn't," the Doctor said, fondly. "This one was brilliant, though, helping me save a planet from the Red Carnivorous Maw-"

"Oh and we named a galaxy 'Alison', after Alison Hendrix, of course."

"Got married," he said.

"That was a mistake," she teased, rolling her eyes.

"Wait, wait, _what_?" Alex asked, completely thrown by this. "You two? Married? Oh God, you're my fake step-mum now? I dunno if I can live with that, honestly, that's a bit too gross-"

Ginger and the Doctor both realized at the same time what Alex and Jack were thinking and rushed to explain.

"No, no, not _us_!" Ginger said. "We didn't get married! _He _did!"

"Good Queen Bess," the Doctor explained, appearing equally uncomfortable.

"And let me tell you," Ginger cut in, smirking. "Her nickname is no longer..." She then turned her attention back to Alex and Jack. "You really thought we'd marry each other? God, can you imagine? Us? Married?"

"Now there's a frightening idea," the Doctor mused.

"Kind of turns the stomach, doesn't it?" she agreed. "I mean, honestly! You know I don't believe in the institution of marriage! It's a barter system using women as currency - not nearly as romantic an idea as pop culture would have you believe. Thought you knew me better than that, Alex."

"Well," teased Jack. "I guess if you two didn't get hitched, that means there's still a shot with the two of us, Doctor." 

"Play your cards right..." The Doctor threw this comment away, which was a good indicator that he was teasing right back.

"Don't say that to him, Doc," Ginger said. "You're just feeding his ego. If his head gets any bigger, it'll float away."

"So what brings you two out here today?" Alex asked. "If you're not honeymooning?"

"Actually, I've been working on a new project," said the Doctor. "I wanted to show it to you, Alex."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "You have a project? Is this some kind of midlife crisis thing? Are you rebuilding a vintage sports TARDIS from scratch?"

"Follow me," the Doctor said, ignoring this.

...

"I've had a bit of extra time on my hands," the Doctor explained, as he showed them to a small lab he'd set up. "Ginger gets burnt out and needs some introvert time where she holes up in her room for ages with Netflix, so I fill the time by doing a couple experiments in my spare time."

"What are we looking at, Doctor?" Jack asked, trying to get him to the point.

"Right, yes," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Alex, I know what happened to you in the Maze was traumatic, so I thought you and Ginger might like scientific, concrete answers to what actually happened there. Might help give you some closure-"

"For God's sake," Ginger rolled her eyes. "He's trying to say he salvaged some evidence from what was left behind. He's been dissecting the dead little worm dudes to figure out their chemical composition and how they evolved to integrate with the technology. To summarize."

Alex raised her eyebrows. ""Little worm dudes?" she teased.

"That is essentially it," the Doctor said. "I'm close to a breakthrough of figuring out how they work. The biological implications of a species like this...Well, they're just staggering. They communicate via chemical signatures that mingle with our own brainwave patterns. These chemicals are psychoactive in nature, and controlled entirely by the pheromones from the Queen."

"He says they're psychoactive," Ginger cut in. "But he still won't let me know if that means psychotropic or hallucinogenic."

The Doctor shook his head. "You humans. You think so small! You see a scientific breakthrough right in front of you and immediately want to know if you can get high with it!"

"It's a valid question, Doctor," Jack said. Ginger smiled at him and gestured as if to say: _'See? He agrees with me.'_

The Doctor sighed. "Yes, alright, they have a psychedelic effect, but I wouldn't recommend recreational use until further testing has been done. Or, really, at all."

Ginger rolled her eyes. "You're such a buzzkill sometimes, Doc. Now come on, we should get food. I'm starving."

"I second that," Jack said. "If we're not going on a drug trip, I think we should go on a food one instead."

Ginger smiled. "Good to have you back, Captain Bighead. So what's everyone in the mood for?"

"Well I'd say we could go out for burgers, but Ginger hates them," the Doctor said.

"Well, can you blame me? The texture's all wrong! They taste pre-chewed!" She clapped her hands together. "Why don't we do a buffet? I love a buffet."

"Good thinking!" said Jack.

The Doctor accidentally broke one of his microscope slides. "Alex, why don't you go start getting the TARDIS ready to fly," said the Doctor. "I'm going to be just a second while I clean this up."

"I'll go with her," said Ginger. "Clean up work is boring. You coming Jack?"

"In a minute," Jack said. "I think I'll stay to help."

"Suit yourself," Ginger shrugged. She and Alex headed back to the control room.

"What's on your mind, Jack?" asked the Doctor, not at all fooled by his sudden helpfulness.

"Two months, Doctor?" asked Jack.

"Everyone seems really hung up on the two months," the Doctor said. "When you live as long as we do, it's no time at all."

"But Alex _won't _live that long," Jack pointed out. "Even thinking you were gone for two weeks was hard for her. I overheard you two. Before Christmas, I mean."

"Overheard what?" the Doctor asked.

"Something about it being alright if she thinks of you like a dad."

"Oh. Right."

"You can't tell her you think of her like a daughter and then disappear, Doctor. After all she's been through...You can't do that to her. I always managed her expectations. 'Uncle' Jack can just come and go. But if she starts calling you 'dad'...When I told her I'm her godfather, that was a commitment. I'm here now. I got an apartment up the street."

"Point taken," the Doctor said gravely. "I really am sorry, by the way. Things got out of my control. I needed time to make sure Ginger was alright before I brought her back..."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked. "Did something happen?"

"I'm not sure if I should say...It's her business..."

Jack experienced a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Did she try to kill herself?" Jack took the look on his face for confirmation. "I know what suicidal people look like...I'd just hoped she wouldn't go through with it."

"She died," the Doctor said softly, avoiding his gaze. "I was almost too late to save her. Her heart stopped for almost a minute before Martha managed to revive her."

"Martha? As in Martha _Jones_?"

"I'd really rather not talk about this," the Doctor said. "It's been nearly two and a half months since it happened, and I'd really rather not think about it. Just do me a favor. Don't make any jokes about me and her, not in front of her. She's still fragile and I think any insinuation might push her back to that place."

Jack nodded. "Understood."

...

"Booth or table?" the waitress asked.

"Booth-" Alex began.

"Table," Ginger said firmly. "Definitely a table." She didn't fancy the idea of sitting in such close quarters.

"Alright," Alex said. "Table it is."

They settled at the table, Ginger sitting next to Alex while the Doctor sat across from Alex next to Jack. The waitress took their drink orders and left them to it.

"Someone needs to stay behind at the table," Alex reminded them. "Hold the table while the rest of us get food."

"I nominate the Doctor," said Ginger. He glared at her. "It's settled then." She got up.

"I'll stay behind with you, Doc," said Alex. "So you don't get bored."

"Suit yourself," said Ginger. She and Jack took off toward the buffet.

"So how are you, kiddo?" the Doctor asked, once they were gone. "I hope I wasn't going too fast here, pushing you to confront these things before you're ready. I thought maybe getting you some scientific explanations for what happened might help you cope better. It's certainly seemed to help Ginger find a way to rationalize it."

"You know, weirdly, it does," she admitted. "I'm good, really. You and Ginger are looking better. Much better than the last time I saw you, anyway."

"How so?"

"Doc, you were imploding last time I saw you. And she wasn't looking too great herself. I had this sinking feeling when you left that something really bad was gonna happen to you. But you're standing here now and...I'm just really glad the two of you are safe. How did you manage to get her to speak to you again?"

He hesitated, thinking back to what had happened on New Years. "Oh you know, took her to a concert. Got her some Thai food. Patched things right up."

"And you got married?" Alex raised her eyebrows, deciding now that she knew it hadn't been to Ginger she could tease him about it. "What, and you didn't even invite your daughter?"

"It was a spur of the moment thing. And you can spare all the teasing, Ginger gave me no end of that while it was happening."

"So she was fine with it? Just standing back, watching you marry a monarch?"

"Yeah, surprisingly cool actually. She just thought it was funny.'"

She tilted her head, picking up on an undercurrent of uncertainty in his tone. "What happened, anyway?"

He hesitated then smiled disarmingly. "Oh you know. Long story."

"Alright, alright, I'll drop it," she said, before deciding to tease him for something a little more current. "She said 'we'. Before, in the TARDIS. Very horribly domestic of her, don't you think?"

The Doctor glanced back to the buffet to make sure they hadn't been overheard. "Alex, _please _don't say that so loudly. Don't _ever _let her hear you say something like that."

"Woah, okay," she said, putting her hands in the air and looking at him with concern. "There it is, then. I knew it. I knew you both couldn't really be this good. You are _so _anxious, Doc. This whole good mood you've been putting on is so shaky."

"Look, it's just...I need for her to be alright. And when she hears people saying that kind of thing, she...she pulls away. And I can't help."

"Something happened," Alex said. "Something really bad. Don't tell me I was right? Last time we saw each other..." He just looked at her and suddenly looked very tired. Her stomach dropped. "So she _did_?"

The Doctor hushed her. "Keep your voice down."

"I knew it was that bad, but I'd hoped I was wrong-"

"Alex, you can't say anything. This is her business. You can't let her know that you know. She doesn't want to talk about it. This is exactly why I kept her away for so long, I've been keeping an eye on her."

"And?"

"And...she seems better."

"But better isn't fine."

He nodded. "Yeah. That's the problem, isn't it?"

"You're keeping something else from her," Alex said. The Doctor's eyes snapped to her with the surprise of being called out. "Oh my god, you _are_. You've got a secret."

"I've got a great many secrets," he said, cryptically.

"Yeah, but you feel bad about this one. Got all kinds of torn up about it."

"You two!" he said, indignantly. "How do you and Ginger consistently know things that you aren't supposed to know! It's uncanny!"

"Just perceptive, I guess," said Alex, refusing to be called off the topic. "So what is it? What's the secret?"

The Doctor sighed. "Alex, I can't tell you. Scratch that, I _won't _tell you. It's a secret about Ginger, and if I tell you before I tell her, then it'll be unfair."

Alex rolled her eyes and sullenly sat back in her chair. "I guess that's true. It would _suck _to be the last to know." She looked up sharply at him again. "There! Again! Little twinge! You're not keeping somethin' from me, are ya?" She added this last part jokingly.

The Doctor changed the subject quickly. "In any case, would you really want to know? Being in the know means that you have to keep the secrets. Believe me when I say that keeping secrets rots you from the inside."

Alex suddenly didn't know what to make of this conversation. "Alright. I guess I'll drop it for now."

"Drop what?" Ginger asked, putting her plate down at the table. She and Jack had returned.

"Nothing," said the Doctor, quickly. He got up. "Coming, Alex?"

She nodded. "Right behind you."

Ginger looked after them with a bemused look on her face. "What do you suppose is eating them?"

"Who can tell?" Jack asked, sipping his drink.

"For God's sake, Jack, can you stop being so bloody awkward today?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"Awkward? Who's awkward? Not me!"

"Yes, you," she crossed her arms. "You're usually the _not _awkward one so it's weirding me out. So what gives?"

"Nothing-"

"Uh-huh, sure," Ginger said. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you keep looking at me like you're so sad. It's weird and I don't like it. I actually don't understand what your deal is! You were fine up until you stayed behind to help the Doctor clean up..." The truth suddenly hit her and she found herself unable to keep teasing. "Oh. He told you."

"Yeah."

"He shouldn't've done that."

"Well he did. He didn't give me many details but...He did. Don't be too harsh on him for that. I guessed."

"Whatever he told you, I'm sure he blew it all out of proportion."

"So you didn't try to kill yourself?"

"Well..._yeah, _obviously that part is true," she admitted. "But it's not a big deal."

"It _is_ a big deal," Jack replied. "It is to me. We're friends, Ginger - we're _all _your friends. It's not just me and the Doctor, you know? Alex has been worried about you too, and she doesn't even know. You're not alone."

"Yes I am," she said. "I have to be." 

Jack sighed. "You spend too much time around people like me and the Doctor. Listen, I've lost friends before. In horrible ways. But there's nothing like knowing that your friend's in so much pain that she tries to take her own life. Trust me, you're not the first suicidal friend I've had." He thought back to Owen. "I knew you were in pain, that's the thing. I knew it the moment I first saw you. And I tried not to confront that head on because...Well, I didn't want to push you too hard. I thought maybe having all of us around would make you open up more and then you'd get better. Maybe I was wrong about that..."

"We don't have to talk about this," Ginger said. "You wouldn't understand anyway. You'll just write me off as crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy," he said softly. "Any more crazy than the rest of us, anyway. I've been where you are, in my own way. I get it. I've tried to kill myself in more ways than you can count. But it never works."

She couldn't exactly say why it pained her so much to hear this. "You have? But...why would you feel that way?"

He shrugged. "You live long enough, you start living in a pile of regrets. The guilt, the shame...it all piles up. And how can you live on when everyone around you dies?"

She looked away hurriedly. "You know, at this point, it almost feels like I _can't _die. Like something is keeping me alive for something, but I don't know what."

He swallowed hard. "I've had that same thought a million times."

"It's just strange that I keep living," Ginger said. "I don't even know why I'm here. I keep coming so close to being free. I even ended up Category 1 last time-"

Now it was his turn to be surprised. "You were Category 1? During the Miracle?"

It was honestly refreshing for her to hear someone who knew what the Miracle was. "Yeah. Just my luck, eh? Slit my wrists just as the Miracle began?" She couldn't understand the way he was looking at her. "Stop that."

"I'm sorry," he said, taking the time to compose himself. "It's just...a lot to take in. Can I just say, Ginger, that I am _so _glad you're alive. Whatever you've been through, I would be so devastated if you just suddenly stopped existing. You're sort of like the little sister I never had. I realize that human lifespans are short, but can we please not have yours run out for a very long time?"

She was trying so very hard to joke this conversation off because she was uncomfortable with showing emotions. "Jack...you're being too emotional. Bit gay."

He smiled, slowly. "For an emo, you really are _so_ emotionally blocked."

"I'm not hugging you, weirdo."

He smiled, relieved that she was taking the time to tease him. "I'm going to tell everyone that you did!"

"You'd better not!"

"I'm going to right now!"

"You'd better not!"

"What's gonna stop me?"

"I am!" She floundered around for a solution. "I'll throw my drink on you."

"You wouldn't," he said, as a challenge. 

"I will!"

"What's all this about?" Alex laughed as she and the Doctor returned.

"Ginger hugged me!" Jack insisted loudly.

Ginger gasped. "I did _not_!" But she didn't seem angry.

"Maybe it wasn't a physical hug, but it was an emotional one!" laughed Jack.

"I'm going to murder you for that one, Jack Harkness," she laughed.

"Well good luck with that!" Jack laughed. "I just told you, I can't die!" 

...

"We'll do something again soon," the Doctor said after they returned to the TARDIS.

"Well this week's looking pretty full up," Alex said. "Wanna meet up maybe...Monday next week?"

"Definitely," he said. "No disappearing."

The four of them exited the TARDIS into the back garden of Sarah Jane's house, chattering away idly. Hardly any time had passed at all since they'd left. They noticed they weren't alone just as the person before them dropped her bag to the ground with a clatter. If this had been one of Alex's extremely hyperbolic stories, she would've said the girl dropped her jaw along with it.

The laughter died in their throats.

"Kira," Alex said, stunned to see her there.

"I...I was," Kira said, staring at the four of them with eyes wide as flying saucers. "This is...Wow...This is..."

"I can explain," Alex said, mind racing.

"So _cool_!" Kira finished her sentence with enthusiasm. "I knew you'd based your stories on you guys and maybe even had a suspicion they were true but...I never let myself _believe_ it! This explains everything! I was just coming round to see if you wanted to hang out and discuss the stories, but then...And it's actually _blue_? I guess you had to say it was red so that readers wouldn't pick it out on the street! Of course! This all makes total sense now!"

"Kira, maybe we should have a talk about this-"

"Oh don't worry, I'm not gonna tell anyone!" Kira assured her. "I understand wanting to keep a low profile. Ooooh I always wanted to go on one of Sam's space adventures! Now that I know, can I come too?"

Ginger shrugged. "Don't see why not."

"Hey," the Doctor said. "My box, my rules."

"Alright, first thing," Ginger scoffed. "Your box, but I still call the shots. I'm bossy like that. I say she can come. Anyway, would you have said no?"

"No but it's still good to be asked," the Doctor said.

"Kira and I actually have a lot to talk about," Alex said, firmly. "See you all next week?"

"Yeah sure," the Doctor said, very amused at how this had all turned out.

Alex took Kira into the house, leaving the other three outside.

"Well this is gonna be interesting," Ginger smirked.

"Things are a bit more interesting with you two around stirring up trouble," Jack admitted.

"As if your life is so dull," the Doctor teased.

"It has been, actually, lately," he said. "You know I moved into an apartment not too far from here and I'm not really involved with Torchwood anymore. I'm really glad to be in one place and near Alex, but I'm used to a little more excitement in my life."

"What, is the Ealing Triangle having a shortage of alien encounters?" Ginger teased.

"The what?" asked the Doctor.

"You know...the Ealing Triangle?" She gestured around broadly. "It's what alien experts call this area. There's a high concentration of alien sightings just in this small area. I actually considered moving here while I was still trying to find aliens, but then decided I couldn't stand the suburbs."

"There haven't been as many aliens as I'm used to," Jack admitted. "So you two have got to come visit more often. Shake things up."

"Well, we're happy to provide," Ginger assured him.

"We'll be back Monday," the Doctor said. "In the meantime, do _try _to keep out of trouble."

"Where's the fun in that?" Ginger and Jack both said at once.

The Doctor and Ginger started climbing back into the TARDIS when Jack asked Ginger to stay behind for just a second.

"About what you said before..." he said. "About the Miracle-"

"Ginger, are you coming?" the Doctor cut in. "We've got to go if we're going to catch the show on time."

"Yeah, I'm coming," she said, rolling her eyes. "And we have a time machine, it's not like we'll be late!" She turned back to Jack. "We can talk about this later, yeah? Oh, actually! Why don't you come hang out for a while? We can watch a movie, then go do our thing later."

"I'm sure Jack has things to do-" the Doctor protested.

"Yeah, like Captain Bighead over here has a life," she scoffed. "He just told us he's bored! Come on, it'll be fun. We haven't seen you in ages."

He thought about it. "I actually should stay," he said, apologetically. "Someone needs to be there for Alex. I have a feeling she'll have _a lot _on her mind. Rain check?"

Ginger was disappointed. "Ah, well. Next time then. What _is _the origin of the term 'rain check', anyway?"

"Not sure," the Doctor said.

"I'll tell you what," said Jack. "I'll look it up and let you know on Monday."

Ginger smiled. "That's a good idea. Well, we'd better be going. We're going to a musical."

"Which one?" asked Jack.

"She wants to see Chicago again," the Doctor said in a fond, but exasperated, manner.

"And why not?" Jack grinned. "One of my favorites. It's a shame I can't go..."

"Next time," the Doctor said. "She'll make us go again at some point, mark my words."


	30. Doctor Blind

Kira met Alex outside Park Vale Comprehensive School after classes let out on that Monday afternoon, and the 10 minute walk home was spent with her excited chattering. Alex had tried to impress upon her the many dangers and risks associated with TARDIS travel, but Kira seemed to think she was up to the challenge.

"This is going to be so good for us!" she said. "You know, I thought it felt like you've been pulling away a little bit and it was starting to make me nervous but...Now I understand. You had this massive secret." Just then they entered the back garden of Sarah Jane Smith's house and Kira turned to face Alex and took her by the arms. "That must've been so hard for you, not being able to tell me. But we're in this together now. We can start moving forward."

Before Alex could think of something to say, the TARDIS materialized right in front of them.

"That is _so cool_," Kira said, still awestruck by this entire experience. She turned away from Alex to watch it come into view. Alex had to admit that seeing her so enthusiastic about something was incredibly cute.

"It really is, isn't it?" Sarah Jane said with a warm smile, coming out of the house. "I'd say you get used to it, but you never really do."

The TARDIS doors opened, and rather than being greeted by the Doctor as they'd expected, an impatient Ginger poked her head out. "Well come on, then, we're waiting for you in here! What are you waiting for?"

Alex smiled before turning to Kira. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"If I say 'I was born ready' would that be a cliche?" Kira replied with a grin.

"Little bit," she teased.

Kira kissed her, and Alex melted into it.

"As cute as this is, little gaybies, we are on a schedule," Ginger said, tapping an imaginary wrist watch.

Alex and Kira split apart instantly, Alex blushing furiously and Kira looking sort of proud of herself. 

"Oh loosen up," Kira grinned. "It's time travel! We can leave whenever we want and still end up on time!"

"Not with the Doctor driving," Ginger replied.

"Oi!" the Doctor called from inside. "I heard that!"

"You were supposed to!" Ginger called back, an uncharacteristic smile blossoming on her lips. "You'd best get in here and help him steer, Alex, otherwise we're hopeless."

"On it!" Alex exclaimed, rushing past her.

But Ginger didn't come inside. She stood in the doorway, glancing around. "But where's your Uncle Jack?"

"I'm here," Jack said, running into view. "You weren't thinking of ditching me, were you?"

"We _were_ going to leave you behind," Ginger said.

"No you weren't," Jack said.

Her smile turned into a grin. "No I wasn't, but I'm trying to keep up appearances. Get in here." She ushered him and Kira inside. 

They all said goodbye to Sarah Jane and entered the TARDIS and everyone watched with some amusement as Kira gasped audibly seeing the inside.

"It's..." she said, visibly tearing up. "It's even more beautiful than you described."

"Yeah, well, I could never do it justice," Alex admitted.

"You did a perfect job," Kira assured her, putting a hand around her waist. "This place, it just...defies description."

"Where are we heading, Doc?" Alex asked, untangling herself and walking towards the control panel.

The Doctor looked up at them all with a grin. "I think we should let our new guest decide," he said. "Would you like to go to the future?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, excitedly.

"Don't be silly," Ginger cut in. "Kira wants to go to a distant planet, don't you?"

"That's _such _a good idea! Yeah, let's do that!"

The Doctor and Ginger exchanged a look, and Alex got the distinct impression that they'd rehearsed this when they turned to them and said: "What if we did both?"

...

"This is seriously another planet?" Kira asked, gazing about in wonderment.

"One of the very first Earth colonies," the Doctor explained. "Set up as a retreat by the wealthy, Oasis quickly became a hub for artistic expression."

"The Doctor's told me about this one for ages, but we've never actually been," Ginger said, amused at Kira's reaction. 

"She objects to rich people for moral reasons," the Doctor explained. "I finally convinced her to go see their version of space Broadway."

"You two are so cute," Kira said obliviously. "You go together so perfectly. I mean, look! You even wear matching glasses!"

The Doctor knew that this was making Ginger uncomfortable and tried to change the subject. "So how is it, Kira? Holding up to expectations?"

"Definitely!" she exclaimed. "I just can't believe I'm on another _planet!" _She turned to Alex. "Do I get a code-name?"

Alex was taken aback. "What?"

"You know, like how you gave everyone code-names in the stories," Kira explained. She pointed to Alex. "Sam." She pointed to Jack. "Captain Giacomo Valentine." Then to Ginger. "Robin." And finally the Doctor. "And of course, Dr Smith."

"What kind of code-name were you thinking of?" asked Alex.

Kira shrugged. "I dunno."

"Why not 'Lucy'?" asked Ginger. "It comes from Lucifer and means 'light' in Latin."

"Only Lucy I've ever known of was that one Prime Minister's wife," Kira said.

"Which one was that?" Alex asked.

"Oh you remember," she said. "That bloke Saxon, the one who lost it? His wife was named Lucy, wasn't she?"

The Doctor exchanged a look with Jack. "Uh yeah," he cleared his throat. "Yeah, she was."

Ginger picked up on this and was confused. "Think I've heard of him," she said, giving him a look.

"I was too young to really remember," Alex said. "Think I was about 9 when it all happened. You wouldn't've even been in the country yet, probably."

"Always wondered what happened to Lucy Saxon," Kira said. "She kinda dropped off the grid. Guess I would too if my husband went bonkers."

"Excuse me, miss?" an old woman tugged on Kira's sleeve. "Spare any change, miss?"

"Oh," Kira looked immediately guilty. "Oh..I'm sorry, I don't-"

"Here," Ginger said, reaching into her Marauder's Map handbag and handing her a wad of cash. "The Doctor tells me that they still accept 21st century Earth currency on this planet, because it's vintage and they're all a bunch of collectors and hipsters. Besides, I've been where you are. It's not fun."

The old lady let go of Kira and coughed roughly into her hand. Ginger noticed this and was careful not to touch her hand as she dropped the bills in it.

...

"It's good to know that even in the future and on a different planet, theatre tickets are unreasonably expensive," Ginger complained, looking at the ticket prices.

"I've heard good things about this play," the Doctor said. "It's supposed to be some kind of broad social commentary."

Ginger scoffed. "Alright, I'll believe that when I see it." She looked around at the lavish hall they were in. "God, this place is just dripping with gold. It's so tacky. I feel like the Phantom of the Opera is going to drop a chandelier on us at any moment."

"I'm sure you wouldn't do that to us," the Doctor said in an offhand sort of way. Ginger glared at him, grabbed her tickets, and moved ahead with Kira and Jack. Alex hung behind with the Doctor.

"You know, Kira had an interesting point about the glasses," she said. "You hardly ever wear those things unless you have to, but you haven't taken those things off once today. And you wore them the entire time when I saw you last. Why is that?"

The lights flickered and the Doctor was glad for a distraction from this conversation. "Come on, it's about to start."

Alex smiled smugly. "Don't think this means we're finished!" she laughed, following after him.

...

"That was so good," Alex said. "The costumes, the scores, the plot..."

"Yeah, I mean it was a pretty good social commentary," Ginger begrudgingly admitted. "But I dunno...felt a little hollow to me."

"Hollow?" a man in a suit said. "In what way, madam?"

Ginger looked at this newcomer with an air of suspicion. "Alright, number one, eavesdropping. Number two, don't call me madam. It's fuckin' weird."

"Apologies," the man pressed. "I simply wondered in which way the narrative fell flat to you? Was it not a compelling tale of loss and heartbreak, spanning generations of poverty and misfortune?"

"Yeah, I mean, the story itself was fine, well-structured," she admitted. "But I have a few questions for the playwright."

"Lucky for you, he happens to be much amenable to well-reasoned criticism," the main replied, extending a hand. "Julius Penderwood. I wrote the humble production you just availed yourself of."

Ginger looked at the proffered hand as if it were something disgusting and chose to ignore it. "Yes, well, didn't realize I was speaking with the creator."

"I prefer to think of myself as an auteur," he said, with a smug grin.

"Of...course you do," she replied. "That's actually part of the problem. It had this sort of air of pretension to it."

"In what way?"

"The language of the script, for one. It flowed beautifully at times, but at others it seemed to be trying too hard to squeeze every obscure syllable of the dictionary into it."

"I took from such influences as William Shakespeare-"

"Oh don't bring the Bard into this," the Doctor said, wincing as he realized Penderwood's fatal mistake.

"That's the problem with you types," Ginger said. "You want to write the way Will did. But you mistake his poetry for a guidebook. He wanted his plays to be broadly accessible. They were for the people. You've got to modernize and not copy a style of speech. If you want it to be poetic, make it in the vernacular of the day. The vernacular of the day is very important when establishing class - which was my other point. You had this grand plotline centered around the troubles and suffering of the working class. I don't know much about the linguistic patterns or culture on this planet, but I figure they haven't changed that much. You wrote a tragedy - hoping, I'm sure, to emulate Shakespeare and the Greeks - in which there is no hope at all from climbing out of those conditions. But there wasn't a fresh take to be found there. Just because it's depressing doesn't mean it's profound. The glorification of poverty - especially in a venue like this which is so exclusionary to people in those conditions by being financially inaccessible - makes me think you've never spent a day in those shoes yourself."

"Brutal criticism," Penderwood replied. "Did you have anything good to say about it?"

"Yes, the costumes were interesting and the score was moving," she conceded this point. "Also I found that disease they were suffering from the be interesting. Where did you come up with the idea for the Violet Blight? It was incredibly disturbing to someone as germ-phobic as I am."

He looked surprised by her words. "Well of course I drew my inspiration from the world around me," said he. "That's the social commentary aspect of it. Incorporating the real struggles of the impoverished so that society at large is forced to face it. Are you an off-worlder?"

She looked at him quizzically. "Can someone translate that for me?" she asked her general group.

"He's saying you talk like you're not from around here," Jack said.

"Only without making it sound like a line, like Jack always does," the Doctor said.

"Oh," she said, comprehension dawning. "Yeah, not from around here, no."

"Where are you from, if I may ask?" Penderwood pressed.

"Not from any place in particular. Bit of a drifter, myself."

"And yet you did not know of the Violet Blight? It is a scourge upon the lower populations."

"Don't people try to help?" Alex asked. "Can't we donate to a relief fund or help with a charity thing?"

"Help?" Penderwood scoffed. "That is why I wrote this in the first place. People of this planet refuse to expend energy addressing this problem. I wanted to bring awareness. Most treat it as a moral failing on part of the poor. If they worked hard enough, perhaps they'd buy themselves access to proper sanitation and healthcare."

Ginger was incensed by this comment. "Awareness without action is just pity porn. You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves." She looked around at her friends. "Guys, how much cash you got on you? We're going to start a research fund."

"I've got a few quid on me, I think," Kira said, rummaging around in her pockets.

"Show us to the nearest hospital," Ginger said to the playwright.

"The nearest one or the one most suitable for your purpose?" he asked. "Because there is a hospital not far from here that caters to those with the money to afford it."

"So where do they take those without the money to afford it?" Ginger prompted.

...

The streets of the city had been bright and clean, but the farther away they walked from the center, the worse the streets became. Out here, there were very few streetlights, the pavement was in disrepair, the lawns were disheveled, and many buildings were falling apart or boarded up.

"I'm surprised by you," the Doctor said in a low voice. "Trying to find a hospital. I was under the impression that you don't like doctors. You say it often enough."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean that I won't help when there's a legitimate cause," Ginger muttered back.

"We're here," said Penderwood, gesturing to a small, dilapidated building.

"This can't possibly be a hospital," said the Doctor. "You can't possibly call _this _a hospital."

"They don't," said Penderwood. "The hospital they did have was shut down due to funding issues, then the building was condemned and subsequently torn down."

"Funding issues?" asked Alex, raising an eyebrow. "For a hospital? How can a hospital not be funded?"

"You'd be surprised," Ginger said, dryly. "This is a problem where I grew up as well. Poor and rural areas lose access to medicine because the state won't actually fund hospitals. It's absolutely criminal. And not in the good Fiona Apple way."

"So are we going in or what?" asked Kira.

"Oooh I did not think this through," Ginger said. "Maybe I should stay outside. You did have a point, Doc, about me not liking hospitals."

"Makes sense," Jack said. "You wouldn't really like doctors after what you've been through."

The Doctor was confused by this statement. "What do you mean what she's been through?" He hated the thought that Jack knew something he didn't.

Ginger quickly changed the subject. "I also don't like germs."

"Now it makes sense," Alex teased. "You kept visibly recoiling watching some of the Violet Blight scenes."

"Excuse me?" a nurse with a thick Irish accent said, exiting the building. "Are you the donors who called ahead?"

"Yes, that would be us," the Doctor said. "Are you coming in?" he added to Ginger.

"Can I have a hazmat suit?" she asked nervously. "How about one of those plague masks with the bird faces?"

"Those weren't effective, though," the Doctor said, surprised.

"I know, but they're punk as hell."

"Alright, I'll get you a hazmat suit," the Doctor said. He personally thought she was being a little paranoid, but decided to say nothing.

...

Nurse Fleigelson walked them on a tour of their facility.

"I'm afraid it's not much," she apologized. "We do our best to help who we can. We're volunteers."

"So you don't get paid for this?" asked Ginger. 

"That _is _the accepted definition of 'volunteer'," the nurse replied. "We have limited resources and it feels like a losing battle most days. There's not a lot we can do."

The Doctor was taking a look around at some of the patients while Ginger hung back as if worried she'd be contaminated. She instead took a look at one patient's chart and saw that the diagnosis hadn't yet been filled in.

"Nurse," she said. She pointed at the patient. "He has scurvy. I'm almost certain of it."

"Scurvy?" asked Alex. "What makes you think that?"

"I've seen it before," Ginger explained. "These symptoms match early stages of scurvy."

"You've seen it before?" asked Alex, skeptically. "Where? In your last job on a pirate ship?"

"In a place not too different from this," Ginger said, gravely shaking off the joke. "Scurvy still happens, especially to the poor. I lived in a food desert for a bit, and a girl I knew got scurvy..."

"A food desert?" asked Kira.

"It means a place in a city where people don't have access to fresh, healthy food," Ginger explained. "The area I was in had dollar stores and gas stations. No fresh produce for miles. And even if there had been, people likely wouldn't've afforded it. So scurvy does still happen in environments like that. Environments like...this."

The nurse looked at the chart. "That's a good catch," she admitted. "We'll see what we can do. Come on, let's go to my office and finalize the terms of your donation."

...

The meeting went smoothly. Penderwood set up a fund to create better conditions for research as well as pay for a better facility. They'd gotten up to go when Kira began to cough.

Nurse Fleigelson looked at her sternly. "That's a bad cough you've got there. You're not coming down with the Blight, are you?"

"No, of course not," Kira said. "My mum was coming down with a cold, I'm sure that's all it is."

"That's the first symptom of the Blight, child," Nurse Fliegelson said, sternly. "Starts off as a cough and progresses til you can't breathe at all."

"That's not it at all, I'm fine," Kira said.

The nurse began walking them towards the outer door when Kira started to feel faint. Within seconds, she collapsed to the floor.

...

"First symptom of the Blight," Nurse Fliegelson explained. "Is a thick, rasping cough. That's the virus setting up shop in her lungs. Before too long, it constricts your airways entirely, leading to a total loss of oxygen. Luckily your friend hasn't yet progressed far enough that her airways are totally restricted. You can tell when that's happened because the skin takes on a blueish hue and the lips become swollen and purple. It's where the name comes from - Violet Blight. The disease unfortunately has a 100% fatality rate."

"100%?" Alex asked. "That can't be right, there has to be something we can do!"

"We do our best here, but we never had the funding to research as efficiently-"

"You have funding!" Ginger interjected. "Isn't that what we were just here doing? You've got money now, get to work saving our friend! Doctor, isn't there something you can do?"

"I'll do my best to help," the Doctor said.

Just then a gurney was brought in with an old woman on it.

"Wait, I know that lady..." Alex said, getting momentarily distracted. "We gave her money before the show started."

The nurse glanced over. "She's definitely infected too. Probably your friend's point of infection."

"How is it transmitted?" Ginger asked, anxiously.

"We investigated many possible sources, thinking maybe it distributed through the water or maybe was food borne. However our worst fears were confirmed. It's airborne."

"If it's airborne, why isn't it a wider outbreak?" the Doctor asked. "Why is it primarily a problem in this borough? Why is Kira the only one of us infected?"

"We've investigated a possible genetic predisposition element, but have come up with nothing. We're no closer to determining that than we are to finding a cure."

"Well don't just stand around!" Alex said desperately. "Get to work! Save Kira!"

...

Ginger and Jack had gone to investigate the city at large. Ginger was looking for an excuse to get out of the hospital, and Jack thought they'd both be more useful trying to ascertain a definite infection source since they didn't really do well with the science. The Doctor stayed behind at the hospital to work with the patients and do research.

"You're oddly quiet," Jack said, at one point.

She shrugged. "This is some freaky stuff."

"You really don't like disease, do you?"

"No, not especially. It's been a great fear of mine since I saw this movie about how smallpox would affect the modern world. I was 9, and it made quite an impression."

"You must've been a laugh during swine flu."

She rolled her eyes. "It's funny that this doesn't even remind me at all of that movie. It reminds me of something almost as scary though. Have you ever seen House?"

"The Japanese one? I can see why you'd be freaked out by that, but I don't see the connection."

"No, no, not that one," she said. "I thought that movie was hilarious, by the way. Granted, I was _extremely _high at the time. Not any of the other movies called 'House' either. I mean the Hugh Laurie show."

Now he laughed. "You're scared of House MD?"

"I'm _not _scared of House!" she said, indignantly. "It's mostly a fine show. I have an immense fondness for Hugh Laurie. Just like...the actual disease part. It's a horror show. Anyway, that's what I feel like right now. I feel like Doc is House and we're his team trying to look for clues in the real world while he does the behind the scenes stuff."

He considered this. "Fair enough. So which one of us gets to be Thirteen?"

"You can't be Thirteen if you can't even remember that her name is Remy!"

...

Kira regained consciousness.

"Alex?" she asked, in a soft voice.

Alex took her hand. "Shhh, Kira, it's alright, I'm here."

"What happened?"

"You're in hospital," Alex said, voice trembling. "You're a little sick, but you'll be fine. The Doctor is working on it."

...

"I still can't figure what the missing link could be," the Doctor said, looking at all these test results as he spoke with Jack and Ginger on speakerphone. "None of us feel even a tinge of infection. I could put that down to Gallifreyan immune response being better than human's...Also Jack probably can't get sick anyway...But, Ginger, what about you and Alex?"

"I don't know, that's what scares me!" Ginger said, frustrated. "At any moment, one of us could come down with symptoms! This is exactly why I said, from the beginning, that we should-" She broke off, having a sudden thought.

"You still there?" the Doctor asked. "Ginger, are you alright?"

"Yeah I just...Doc, I made you vaccinate me and Alex. Before my first trip. You gave us that "Universal" vaccination. It wouldn't be effective for every situation, you said, but what if that's the link?"

"That...makes sense," the Doctor admitted. "Yeah, and Kira didn't get one today, we didn't even think about it! But what about the other people who live on this planet?"

"I have an idea," Ginger said, her voice taking on an edge. "Send Penderwood to meet us in town. Give us a little time to check out a lead, you work on seeing if you can crack something there." She hung up the phone.

...

"Alex," Kira said, voice cracking.

"Don't try to talk," Alex said. "Just get some rest."

"No, I need you to know, just in case something happens to me..."

"Don't talk like that," Alex replied. "You've read my stories, you know the Doctor always saves the day."

"Yeah but if he doesn't..."

"This is some trip, huh?" Alex said, bitterly. "I'm so sorry. This is exactly what I was afraid would happen if you came with us. I was afraid something would happen to you because I'm putting you in danger."

"I don't regret this, not at all," Kira said, earnestly. "I don't. I'm still glad I came. I wanted to be part of your world, Alex Mitchell. I still do. But you're so afraid of letting me in. You don't need to be afraid of letting me in."

"But-"

"Alex, just listen to me. I'm trying to tell you something. I just wanted to let you know that I know we've only been together for a short time but...I really think...I think I'm falling for you. And I wanted you to know that, in case something happens. If I don't make it through this, I wanted you to know...That I love you."

There was just a moment where the two of them looked at each other - both stricken in their own ways - before Kira began coughing again and passed out. Her heart monitor flatlined.

"Doctor!" Alex screamed. "Doctor, help!"

He ran in the room, with a team of nurses and other specialists. "She's gone into cardiac arrest!" he shouted. 

"We need to ventilate immediately!" shouted Nurse Fliegelson.

"Are we too late?" Jack asked, running into the room.

"We're going to be if we keep talking about it!" Ginger shouted, rushing around him. She pulled the cap off an EpiPen looking device and jammed it into Kira's leg.

Kira convulsed for a moment before stabilizing.

"What was that?" Alex asked, tears in her eyes. "What did you do?"

"That wasn't enough to cure, just to treat," Ginger said. "But I know where we can get the cure." She straightened up and looked at the assembled physicians. "Round up all your patients, we've got a jet waiting."

"A jet?" the Doctor asked.

"I'll explain everything on the way, there's no time," Ginger said.

...

"You remember what Penderwood said back at the Opera House?" Ginger asked, as they were in transit. "He said this is a poor person's epidemic. He said that access to proper medical care would prevent fatalities."

"Yes, I remember, what's your point?" the Doctor rushed her.

"Well I remembered that when we were talking about vaccines," Ginger said. "Alex and I didn't get sick, probably because we were vaccinated. It stood to reason that the rich could afford to be vaccinated against this disease."

"So why not give that to poor people too?" Alex asked.

"That's why I needed Penderwood," Ginger said.

Penderwood took it from there. "What we found out is that people in the richer boroughs had a similar outbreak years ago and quenched it with vaccinations and treatments. Those treatments were so effective that they killed any kind of cold or bronchitis so they were sold at exorbitant price to the very wealthy. Now if outbreaks occur in those areas - which is rare - they're caught before the cough can worsen. And if they get bad enough, they can still afford the medical care to fix the problem. The 100% fatality rate is only for the poor districts that aren't given access to these services."

"Even in the future, there's still not universal healthcare!" Ginger said, bitterly. "I only thought about it because I knew a girl once who got scarlet fever. Scarlet fever always starts as strep throat - it only progresses to scarlet if you don't treat it. I thought the Blight might be like that."

"So what are we going to do?" the Doctor asked. "We've spent all our collective money already, and these people can't afford premium services."

"I'm surprised you even have to ask," Ginger said, with a grin. "We're going to storm the hospital, cause a media frenzy, and demand care."

"Another die-in?" asked Alex.

Ginger grinned in a way that reminded Alex of the Doctor. "No, Alex. This isn't a die-in. This is a live-in. Just this once, everybody lives!"

Neither of them noticed the look that passed between the Doctor and Jack at those words.

"You're brilliant," the Doctor said, turning his attention back to Ginger. "Really, truly brilliant."

"I know, I am pretty good," she replied, smugly. "My mind just goes to places yours doesn't. You try to see the best in everything, so you keep looking at the science to understand the way things work. But sometimes it's not the science that's the problem. It's the politics. Growing up in the American healthcare system gave me a very clear picture of what to expect from the rich. Even in my day, they were making musicals about the poor that only the rich could afford to see while refusing to give us access to assistance."

"You have to have faith that things will change," the Doctor said.

"Lucky for me in this case, I rarely have faith in anything," Ginger said, dryly. "I make the change I want to see."

"Your inherent suspicion of the medical establishment saved the day, I guess," Jack said.

"Yeah, funny," Ginger replied. "Guess some good came out of being a category one, after all."

This shocked Alex. "Wait, you were a category one?"

Kira was clearly unsettled as well. "How did that happen?"

Ginger realized she'd made a mistake. "It's not important."

The Doctor could tell that the mood had shifted. "What's a category one?"

The humans all looked at him as if he were insane.

"A category one," Alex said. "You know, like the categories of life. From back when the Miracle was still happening?"

"What's the Miracle?" he asked.

"You really don't know," Jack said. "Huh. When big things like this happen, we always wonder why you're not around to save the day...Never occurred to us that you wouldn't _know_..."

"But I don't know," the Doctor insisted, with a sinking feeling. "What's the Miracle? What's a category of life?"

"For God's sake," Ginger snapped. "It's ancient news at this point. It was years back when I was still in Scotland. People stopped being able to die. Those who were in bad enough state that they _should _be dead were deemed category one because they were taking up resources of healthy living people."

"And?" the Doctor pressed. "What happened then?"

"They were quarantined," Alex said. "At first, anyway..."

"Then?"

Ginger sighed heavily, her frustration mounting. "You don't have to dance around it. They were sent to be burned. Alive. Obviously." She looked at him closely. "You really never heard about this?"

"How did you get out?" Kira asked. "I've never heard of a category one escaping."

"I always get out alive," Ginger said. "That's my whole deal."

"People were burned alive?" the Doctor asked. "_You _were almost..."

Ginger caught the look he threw her. "Don't make a big deal of it. The Miracle is over. Not a big deal anymore. People can die now, it's all chill."

"But how could that happen?" the Doctor asked. "I don't understand, well..._any _of this."

Penderwood came back from the cockpit of the jet. "We're here. It's time."

...

The live-in worked. Kira and the others got their cure and got on the road to recovery. The media frenzy shamed the hospital establishment into lowering prices on life-saving medication, and politicians were starting to talk about a safety-net to prevent a crisis like this from happening again.

"You know, I was kind of lost in my life before I came on this trip today," Kira said, as soon as she started feeling better. "I was wondering what I actually wanted to do with my life. Now I think I know. I want to change my major. I've figured out what my calling is."

"What is it?" Ginger asked.

"I want to be a social worker," Kira announced.

"That's a noble profession," Ginger said. "I think the world could use more people like you looking out for the little guy."

"I think we're all set, we can get going," the Doctor said.

"Thank God," Ginger said. "I'm ready to be off this planet."

"Have you ever thought about being a doctor, Ginger?" the Doctor asked.

She scoffed. "No. I don't like them, for one thing. Still don't like germs, for another."

"I'm just saying, the first time we met you performed basic first aid on me," he pointed out. "And you diagnosed scurvy today just by looking at a chart!"

"Still not a good enough reason to become a doctor," Ginger replied.

Kira touched Alex's arm, indicating that she should linger behind for a moment. "Hey, Alex? About what I said before..."

"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself," Alex said, waving it off. "You thought you were dying and you said things you didn't mean. It happens to the best of us. Let's just move forward, alright? Pretend it didn't happen?"

"That's..." She started to protest before catching herself. "What I was gonna say. Yeah. Yeah of course. Like it never happened."

...

"So what do you want to do now?" the Doctor asked, after they'd dropped everyone off in Ealing.

"More Bojack?" Ginger asked. "I'm beat, it'll be good to just watch some TV."

He smiled. "I'm all for that."

"Sounds like a plan then," she grinned. "Hey, you'll never guess what I managed to swipe from the rich people hospital before we left."

The Doctor was surprised by this change in subject. "What?"

She reached in the pocket of her leather jacket and retrieved a bottle of pills. "Don't freak, they're THC capsules. Totally harmless. Maybe we could...watch some Netflix and get stoned? Kinda like New Years again?"

He hesitated. "I don't know, Ginger..."

She put the bottles back in her pocket and held up her hands in surrender. "Hey, not trying to peer pressure here. You don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought it was a lot of fun last time, which is weird because I usually don't like getting high with other people, but if you wanted to-"

"We'll see how it goes," the Doctor said. "There are a few episodes coming up that I really don't think it's a good idea to be stoned for, but we'll see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I'm going to be taking another short break from posting. I'll be gone for about 3 weeks, but I'll definitely be back before Valentine's Day.
> 
> I hope that readers who leave detailed comments know that I would die for them.


	31. Sleepwalking

"I don't want to peer pressure you into it," Ginger assured him nervously. "I just thought it could be fun. I'll do it regardless."

"No, no, no pressure," he said. "I want to." And he did...Sort of. Almost. There was that tiny voice in the back of his head niggling away that this was a bad idea.

Ginger handed him a THC capsule and placed one in the center of her own palm. "Count of three, then?"

He nodded.

"Alright," she said, seemingly satisfied with this response. "One...two...three." She tilted her head back and took it. She looked up and he still hadn't taken his. "It's alright, you don't have to if you don't want to-"

"I want to," he said stubbornly, tilting his head as well and chasing the pill down with a glass of water. "I was only startled that you dry swallowed it, is all."

That's how they ended up with the Doctor sitting on one end of the sofa and Ginger lying tucked away on the opposite end. They watched the original series of Star Trek, which the Doctor said he used to watch in his youth when engaging in these sorts of activities.

"Star Trek, though?" she asked. "You had Star Trek?"

"We didn't," he admitted. "I swiped it from the Earth records section of the library. Wasn't technically supposed to have access."

She couldn't quite hold back a smile. "You rebel, you," she teased. She could feel it beginning to hit. "Are they real?"

"Who?"

"Vulcans."

It was his turn to smile. "What you're proposing is highly illogical, Captain."

She laughed to herself. "While I don't mind at all that I'm the captain in this scenario, why would it be illogical? We accidentally invented a small word in the Latin language, so why shouldn't time travel and aliens also account for an accidental inspiration for a low-budget television show?"

"...Fair point."

Ginger began giggling. "Captain's Log: Star Date 38420-3. The lighting on this show is so primitive that it borders on cute."

The Doctor attempted to focus on her. "Explain."

She pointed to the screen. "Multiple points for shadows. There's no accounting for that with the assumed in-universe lighting. It's a sign that these primitive lighting technicians hadn't yet mastered their craft."

"Bit nit-picky," the Doctor replied.

"It's not a criticism," she explained. "I think it's cute. But the fact of the matter is: there's multiple shadows."

"That does sometimes happen..." he mused. "Never a good sign."

"And seriously, what's the thing with this show?" Ginger asked. "It's like every other episode, Kirk encounters some culture that has never heard of romance or mating and he has to teach them how it's done-"

The Doctor couldn't say exactly why he felt the need to change the subject, but he suddenly felt as if his life depended on it. "I'm a little hungry. Are you hungry? Maybe we should get some food."

Ginger stretched. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I'm a little peckish. It's obviously been _w__ay _too long since I've done this. I've forgotten rule number one."

"What's rule number one?" the Doctor asked, vaguely.

"Always assemble snacks," Ginger replied. "I'm starving."

He smacked his lips a few times. "My mouth is dry."

She giggled a bit and stretched, kicking him on purpose. "Come on," she said, getting to her feet and dragging him up by his arm. "Let's go get some food, dummy."

They stumbled out into the hallway, glancing around blearily as they got their bearings. The TARDIS could tell that they were in a state, so dimmed the lights for them.

"Thanks, girl," Ginger said, patting the wall. "You're the realest."

"Kitchen's this way," the Doctor said, starting off in one direction. He stopped after just a few steps. "No wait...this way."

Ginger giggled again, still holding onto his arm as she followed him. "You need a Marauder's Map to find your way round this place," she said. Then she looked around. "Actually, what's in all these rooms? I've only ever been in a few of them."

"I have this bad habit of programming the TARDIS when I get bored," he said. "I'll make a room with a specific purpose, use it once, then forget about it entirely."

"I just think it's weird that I've never thought of exploring this place before now," Ginger said. "I usually have such a curious nature. I like investigating and sticking my nose where it doesn't belong."

"Well you can have a look at any of these rooms if you want."

"Any of them?"

"Yeah, why not! Pick a room, explore!"

She giggled, not used to being given permission. She let go of him and moved ahead a bit, contemplating her options. "How about...this one?" She picked a door at random and turned the knob.

The Doctor saw a brief flash of pink from behind the door, and moved to close it before she had a chance to peek inside. "No, no, not that one. Any other room, but not that one."

"Why not this one?" she asked, grinning and tilting her head as she contemplated him. "Is this your private torture chamber? Oooh or your secret attic where you hide your mad wife?"

"No, nothing so Bronte."

"So what is it then?" she asked, leaning in close to him and still giggling. She overbalanced slightly, but corrected quickly by grabbing on to the Doctor's shirt to steady herself. "Why can't I go in this room? What are you hiding?"

"It's...it _was..._Rose's room."

Her grin slowly faded as her brain slowly let that sink in. "Oh. Sorry." She let go of him and straightened up.

"Guess I haven't been able to bring myself to archive this room yet," the Doctor admitted.

"Aw, well that's sad," Ginger said, reaching out and smoothing his hair back from his face. "We're not allowed to be sad when we're high! We're supposed to be eating snacks and...and watching old cartoons." She let him go. "It's like Garbage said: They're only feelings. Come on! Allons-y, Doctor! We were on a snack finding mission, after all!"

...

It was hard to be sure how much time passed. The Doctor idled the TARDIS in the Time Vortex so they could access all the media they could possibly want, and they spent days holed up watching television. They'd take another capsule if they started to come down, but mostly it wasn't a problem since they ended up sleeping it off most of the time.

"We're gonna run out of snacks," Ginger despaired, gesturing at the myriad wrappers and bags that were discarded around the room. "I thought I told you to stock up in here before we got started on this trip."

"That was four days ago," the Doctor groaned, stretching.

"Was it?" She was genuinely surprised by this revelation.

"No idea."

"Good, cuz I thought maybe my clock was wrong."

"It somehow never is. But out of curiosity, what's it saying now?"

"Five days. So you were close."

They both started laughing, and Ginger crawled onto the floor in search of some snack that hadn't yet been touched. She found something that made her come to a stop and settle cross-legged on the floor while staring at it.

"What?" the Doctor asked, getting down to the floor himself and crawling to sit next to her. "What've you got there?"

"A Sour Patch Kid."

"So?"

"_So_...It's _a _Sour Patch Kid. That's fucking weird."

"What's so weird about candy?"

She held up the single candy in its little clear plastic sleeve. "It's individually wrapped, that's what. Have you ever in your life seen an individually wrapped Sour Patch Kid?"

"Huh." He put on his glasses and took the candy from her, examining it. "No I haven't. They're always in those big bags together."

"So it's weird, right?" He didn't answer so she looked at him more closely. "Hello? Earth to Doctor? Or maybe not 'Earth' to Doctor...Not sure I wanna be ambassador for that lot-"

"It's so lonely," he said, still not tearing his eyes away from the candy.

Something about his tone gave her pause. "What is?"

"The little non-gender-specific Sour Patch child."

"So it's a child, now, is it?"

"But think about it. These things always come in bags together, like you said. Always a big group. They've got the buddy system. But this little guy got lost. All his little friends are off somewhere else."

"Maybe he didn't get lost," Ginger contributed, seeing his point. "Maybe he never had a buddy. He's the odd one out. Nobody likes him because he's weird, so he gets left behind."

"That's so sad."

"Yeah it is," she replied, swallowing hard. "Little misfit Sour Patch child. Just wants to be somebody's buddy. Somebody who will be his buddy back."

"I'll be your buddy, little guy."

"Me too," she said, furiously rubbing her eyes. "Ugh, I can't do this." She snatched the candy from him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She unwrapped it. "You're making this sentimental and weird. I'm ending this over-identification." She started to bring the candy closer to her mouth.

"No!" he said, genuinely shocked by this.

"Hey hey hey," she said, realizing he looked a little on the verge of tears. "It's alright. Just a piece of candy, yeah? Don't start crying over it. Not like it's a Warhead. No, seriously, you keep on with these emotions and I'm gonna put eye makeup on you."

This surprised him. "Eye makeup? Why?"

"It's one of my old tricks. Put on thick eye makeup and then you have incentive not to cry." She softened, not used to seeing him look so vulnerable. "Alright. Okay. I cave. I will spare this one Sour Patch child. Through my benevolence it has been saved. Just don't. Don't cry, alright?"

He nodded, looking relieved if still a little teary. "We're gonna save it?"

"Yeah. I mean I guess so. You got any Ziploc bags?"

...

The two of them headed to the kitchen. She sat on a counter top while he rummaged through drawers to find something suitable to save it in.

"I don't know that there are any bags small enough for one piece of candy," the Doctor said.

"I don't know if this will work anyway," Ginger agreed. "It's not like this is _Fringe _and we can just Amber things."

He looked up sharply. "Fringe? That's it!"

He rushed out of the room without another word.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

...

She followed him to the lab.

"What are you looking for?"

"I was into crafting a bit when I was a kid, and I know I still have a kit around here somewhere."

She smirked and leaned against a wall. "You? Into crafting?"

"Here it is!" He held up a box. "Home Made Amber kit!"

"Aliens have a weird idea of what constitutes a craft-"

"I used to play around with making my own amber and fossils as a kid. Neat little science experiment. If we put the Kid in Amber, then it'll be there forever."

"Oh," she said, getting it. "Wow, I was just joking about Fringe, but you play with amber for fun?"

"Are you going to assist me, Astro?" he asked.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, fondly. "I'll get you some Red Vines, Walter."

...

"And...it's finished," the Doctor said, grabbing the last Red Vine and taking a bite before picking up the little charm by the chain he'd threaded through it.

"I'm not usually one for jewelry - and take this with a grain of salt because I haven't come down yet - but it's kind of weirdly beautiful," Ginger admitted, gazing at it.

The Doctor had carefully encased the Sour Patch Kid in a circular pod of amber before putting a little bronze chain through it so that it could be worn as a necklace.

"Well it's yours," the Doctor said, holding it out to her.

"What? Why? It's your Kid," Ginger said, looking at him like he'd gone mad.

"Sure, but you'll protect it better than I can," he insisted. "You're scrappy."

She made a face. "Alright, sure, I'll wear it. Just don't call me Scrappy. Scrappy Stinks."

He chuckled, and put it on her. "There. You know what? I think we should give it a name."

"A name?" Ginger asked. "Like what?" Then she had an idea. "Wait. I've got it!"

"What is it?"

"It's a song reference."

"Of course it is-"

"I'll give you a hint. It's my favorite Iggy Pop song."

"You have a favorite Iggy Pop song?"

"Truthfully I only really know the words to this one," she admitted. "Come on, another hint is it's the one he sang with Kate Pierson."

And then he got it, and a slow grin started creeping across his face. "Candy?"

She nodded, grinning back. "Candy."

"That's a perfect name," he agreed.

Suddenly there was a beeping sound and the Doctor rushed over to a monitor to push a few buttons to stop it.

"What was that?" Ginger asked.

"Nothing," the Doctor said. "Just the TARDIS warning me that we're running low on fuel. But not so low that it's a problem, we can put it off."

"Oh but you know what? Not to go on a stroll down non-sequitur lane, but that Scrappy comment you made has got me wanting to do my favorite high activity."

This one wasn't so hard for him to figure out. "Watch Scooby Doo?"

"Jinkies, I think you've got it."

...

They marathoned every bit of Scooby Doo content to come out between the beginning of the show and the live action movies. The Doctor thought it was funny how she had the first Scooby Doo movie pretty much memorized, and even being high couldn't make her not quote along.

"Hey Ginger?" the Doctor asked, at one point. "Can I ask you a loaded question?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Yeah I guess."

"Did you ever try to find your parents?" he asked.

"Nah I'm not one of _those _orphans."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, one of the ones deluding myself into thinking they ever cared about me and would welcome me back if I found them. They left a new born in a bus station in the middle of February. They couldn't care less about me, clearly. So I care less about them."

"Surely you had some intellectual curiosity about who they could've been?"

"I suppose," she shrugged. "When I was really young I guess I did try to figure out if there was a clue left behind, but it was always a dead end. Then the older I got, the more I realized it didn't matter. I had the life I had. Even if my parents had come back for me, I wouldn't forgive them for allowing me to be put through this. It's not like I got to be the happy kid, getting presents for birthdays and Christmas. I just had to focus on surviving."

"You never got anything for holidays? At all?"

"Nope. Learned early that wanting something just leads to disappointment. Like Scooby Doo waffles."

The Doctor couldn't help but laugh - it was a completely bonkers statement. "What?"

"Yeah. When I was a kid, I saw this waffle iron online that made waffles shaped like Scooby Doo's head. I'd never wanted anything so badly in my life. And it's stupid, I know, but I was young and I thought...Maybe if I could just get Scooby Doo waffles then that would prove I deserved better."

"And so you got Scooby Doo waffles?"

She laughed, sadly. "No, Doctor. The real world doesn't give you what you want. I didn't deserve Scooby Doo waffles." Then she sat up, suddenly. "You wanna see some really ugly cats?"

"What? Yeah!" They were both so high they instantly forgot what they'd been talking about.

She got out her phone and accessed an old post. "This is the funniest thing you've ever seen." She said, scooting in closer to him and looking at it over his shoulder.

"These are the dumbest cats I've ever seen!" the Doctor said.

She bit her lip, trying not to cry with laughter. "They're the dumbest. I love them."

"Wait, I've just remembered," the Doctor said. "We're watching the live action movie."

"How much have you been smoking that you forgot that?" Ginger grinned.

"We haven't _been _smoking, Ginger. We used capsules."

"Oh right," she said. "That explains why my throat doesn't feel awful."

She looked right at him as she realized what she'd just said. "That's what she said," they both said at the same time.

Ginger groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're such a child."

"But back to my point," the Doctor said. "We're watching Scooby Doo. And I plucked you from 2015. So you've never seen the Shaggy meme."

"The _what?"_

"You're gonna love this," he assured her.

"If it's anywhere _near _as good as that post you showed me where they edited Tainted Love to have the Law & Order sound in it, then sign me up!"

...

After Ginger finished absolutely dying over the Shaggy meme, another few warning beeps sounded. The Doctor waved his sonic screwdriver to get it to stop.

"Fuel stuff again?" Ginger asked, deciding to lie down on the opposite end of the sofa.

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal," he said. "Put it off til later."

She shrugged. "If you say so." She clapped her hands when she was seized with a sudden thought. "Oh! I remember what I was saying!"

"When?" he asked.

"Probably...three days ago? Maybe? I lost the train of thought but it's back now."

"What is it?"

"What is what?"

"The thought."

"Oh right! Frozen hot chocolate."

He chuckled. "Not this again."

"It's a blasphemy against nature."

"You're not religious."

"So? I'm hyperbolic. Maybe it's not a blasphemy against nature, but it's a blasphemy against language. Like the word astronaut."

"What's blasphemous about astronaut?"

"It's a combination of Greek and Latin roots. Cosmonaut is a much better word, the only reason English doesn't use it is because Americans are prideful. They'd rather make Frankenwords than admit the Russians got there first."

"But this is worse than astronaut?"

She nodded. "Much worse. Because it can't be frozen _and _hot at the same time! What is this, a quantum state? Schrodinger's milkshake? Because, to be quite honest, it should be just a chocolate milkshake. You can't call something frozen _and _hot. It breaks a fundamental constant of language!"

"You're remarkably clearheaded on this matter," the Doctor mused. "But then again, you would be, since we've had this conversation probably twelve times since you first saw that menu item months ago. You've probably got it scripted."

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I'm being annoying? It's just so irritating."

"No, no," he waved this off. "I actually enjoy your indignation. You're so passionate about something that doesn't matter, it's amazing." He stretched and leaned back against the arm rest of the sofa. "I feel a bit like a teenager again."

"Sorry about that," she giggled.

"Didn't mean it in a bad way," he said.

"Oh that's right, you told me a bit about your 'wasted youth', yeah?" she teased.

He nodded. "I was a bit of a rebel. Always causing some kind of trouble. Bet you were the same way."

"Getting into trouble and causing it are two very different things," she mused. "One is passively letting the trouble find you, and the other is actively seeking it. I wanna act all punk and say that I was out there stirring it up on purpose, but...Guess I never could help myself. It's in my nature. I'm a magnet for trouble."

"And you've done a lot of stuff like this?" the Doctor asked.

"Stuff like what?"

"Drugs."

She smiled, wryly. "Is that a judgement?"

"Nah, just an assumption. From the way you talk, like that one Katy Rose song about 'Keeping It Together'."

She rolled her eyes, amused. "I didn't do lots of drugs, I did lots of one type of drug."

"Which type of drug?"

"This type of drug. My teen years I did nothing else. I'd tried alcohol, but it only made me feel worse. Tried Xanax and Oxy-"

"Woah woah woah," the Doctor sat upright and fought through the effects of the drug to make a coherent sentence. "Xanax and Oxycontin?"

She yawned. "Yeah, only I say 'Oxy', because I'm a badass..."

"That's incredibly dangerous, what did you do that for?" He was properly concerned about this off-hand statement.

She shrugged. "Was just damn bored, I guess? To be honest, I didn't used to think much about the future in those days. Didn't think there was one. It wasn't like I was out there trying meth or coke or bath salts, you know?"

"But those pills are highly addictive and dangerous," he cautioned her. "I don't like the idea of you talking them."

She peered at him. "What do you care about weird shit I tried when I was 17? It doesn't effect my life now."

"But it could have, that's the point..." he said, sighing. "You're very lucky you didn't wind up addicted or dead from drugs like that."

"Lucky?" she muttered, under her breath. She sighed. "Look. I was tellin' a story. You gonna let me finish or what?"

He had more he wished to say on this subject, but managed to bite it back and sit back in his corner of the sofa. "Go on, then..." He waved a hand to urge her on.

"I didn't like drinking because I was always my worst when I'd drink. Throwing up, fighting - not just with others, but with myself. I tried Xanax once, but didn't like the way it made me feel so never did it again. The day I was on Oxy was fucked up, though."

"Why?" he asked. "What happened?"

"All my life I've had these nightmares, you know? Real fucked up stuff, but they got worse as I got older because they started mingling in with my real life. But there's always this blonde guy laughing. For no fucking reason. Don't know where he came from or who he is, but he's there. Then when I was 17 and still living in New York... Well, I had holed up in this abandoned house with some other homeless punks, addicts, dealers, sex workers...Generally the kind of people society tries to forget. We all generally kept to ourselves, though, unless we needed something. All pitched in for food or drugs or whatever. It's how I scored all of the weed I smoked in those days. I tried pills on those times when we were running low on supply and I just...Man, I didn't want to think. Mary Jane was great for making me just sleep it off, and it was the only thing that ever made me sleep through the night with no nightmares. So once we were running low, right? So I asked what else we could barter for and this girl Trish had an Oxy. She was a bit scared of me anyhow - they all were, which is why nobody ever tried to steal my electronics - so she handed it over. And it was whatever. Didn't really feel much of anything. But then I had the most fucked up hallucinations."

"Hallucinations? Like what?"

"Alright, so I used to hole up by myself in the crawlspace. Had all my things down there all cozy and nobody messed with me. It was pretty cramped, but there were some pretty big holes in the main floor above me so I could see everything that was going on above me and nobody could see me. It was Christmas, you know, fucked up stuff always happens round Christmas. And I really thought I wasn't feeling anything from this pill, but then I was looking up through one of the holes in the floor and I just saw...Well, did I mention we were all a bunch of homeless teens? All of a sudden these girls start doing this funny thing with their head and...It was the weirdest thing, they all transformed into this weird blonde guy who talked in an English accent. I was in New York at the time, so it was freaky. I'd had nightmares about that guy all my life, but never could think of where I'd seen him...And then there he was. Everyone I'd ever known just turned into carbon copy clones of him. Freaked me out. So I just stayed quiet til they all went away and then I went back to sleep. When I woke up, everything was normal. Freaky hallucinations. Just stuck with weed after that, swore off anything more dangerous. I actually moved to Scotland not long after I turned 18, and ended up swearing off drugs altogether at that point-"

"Uh-huh, sure you did."

She kicked him gently in the arm.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"Being a dummy, that's what."

"I'm just, I'm thinking maybe this isn't the best coping method, that's all. I'm actually kind of worried about you."

"Oh Lord Shaggy give me strength," she rolled her eyes. "You're not gonna lecture me now, are you?"

"Not lecture, just..." He sat up properly then, which gave him a bit of trouble. "I don't like thinking of you doing that stuff."

"Well don't think of it then-"

"I never did anything nearly so dangerous on purpose, even as a reckless kid," he continued on, unabated. "You knew the risks, but you did it anyway."

"I didn't think it would matter-"

"Exactly. Sure I might've dabbled at that age - experimenting, having fun, maybe dealing with some issues of my own...But the way you talk is like you were constantly messed up. You were so afraid of having to feel something that you turned to potentially dangerous drugs in order to stop it. At 17! Alex's age! You were still a child! What were you running from at that age that made you risk your life so you wouldn't have to deal with it? What could've been so horrible?"

"Stop it," she said, half way sitting up now and tucking her knees in close to her chest. "Just stop it."

"Ginger-"

"No, I said, stop. I don't want to talk about it. The point of this is to not talk about it, alright? Ever. Remember? And now you're over there looking like you're gonna start crying and I can't handle that, alright? Not after the incident with Candy. Just leave it alone. Drop it."

He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. "Wait. Did you pray to Shaggy for strength?"

"You made a mistake showing me that meme, Doctor," she said, relieved at the change of subject. "It's my new favorite meme, all memes will pale in comparison. I will _not _shut up about it."

...

"I'm starving," Ginger announced, out of nowhere.

"Grab a snack," the Doctor said, waving a hand.

"We ate all the snacks," she reminded him.

"Oh."

She sat up and looked at him. "We should order pizza."

He laughed. "Order a pizza? To the middle of the Time Vortex?"

"No, no, I mean we order a pizza, then when the delivery guy calls to say he's at the place, we materialize in front of him, take and pay for the pizza, then take off again."

"You want to scare the pizza delivery guy?"

"He delivered pizza to aliens," Ginger said, with a wicked grin. "And _nobody _will ever believe him."

He thought about it. "You're a little evil, you know that?"

"You in or what?"

"Definitely."

"Alright," Ginger said. "I'll trade you 20 quid if you'll let me use your sonic."

...

The pizza delivery guy pulled up in front of the corn field. This couldn't be the right place. He called the number associated with the order.

"Hey, I've just pulled up at the address," he said. "Do I have the right place?"

There was giggling at the other end of the line. "We'll be right there." The phone line went dead.

The delivery guy started suspecting he'd been lured by a serial killer, so he didn't immediately exit his vehicle. Then suddenly, he heard a frightful noise as before his eyes a little blue box appeared where previously one had not existed.

Against his better judgment, he got out to have a closer look. He got nearly to the police call box when the doors began to swing open, and he braced himself to run.

A young woman with short red hair, green lipstick, and an 'I Want to Believe' t-shirt leaned out of the opening, surrounded by an eerie green light. "You the pizza guy?" she asked, in a gruff Scottish accent.

"I, uh..." The youth couldn't quite think up a response, he was so stunned.

The lady seemed unsatisfied with this response. "You human? Sure that's a real pizza and not a trap?" She pushed up her glasses with one hand while pulling the sonic screwdriver from her leather jacket pocket. She pointed the little metal implement at the lad and made motions as if she were giving him a full-body scan. She looked at it and made a noise as if satisfied. "Alright, checks out. Praise be to Shaggy." She leaned back to shout over her shoulder. "Doc! Pizza's here!"

"Coming, coming, got it," a skinny Englishman said, sliding into view in the doorway. "How much do we owe you, then?"

"Doc, I think I broke the mortal," the red-haired lady said, shaking her head sadly. "His mouth just stays open. He's gonna catch cicadas that way."

"Poor thing, like he's never seen a spaceship before," the Englishman agreed. "How much did you say, lad?"

He still didn't respond, so the redhead rolled her eyes. "Like zoinks, Doc! Just give the lad 20 quid and be off with him."

"Quite right, quite right," the man agreed, placing the bills into his hands while the lady took the pizza.

"Mmmm," the lady said, getting a whiff of the food. "This food has been blessed by Shaggy. Praise be to him." Then she looked seriously at the delivery driver. "May Shaggy be with you, my child."

The woman grabbed a small, oddly shaped necklace that she was wearing while the man placed a hand over his own heart. "Astro projector," they both said, in unison.

The doors swung shut and within moments, the little blue police box had disappeared entirely.

...

The Doctor and Ginger were cracking up as the Doctor steered them back into the Time Vortex, still ignoring the little red flashing light on the console because they were too busy turning off the stage lights they'd rigged to create the green glow.

"I can't _believe _we did that!" the Doctor laughed. "Reminds me of something Koschei and I would get up to in our youth. Which probably means it was an awful, horrible thing to do. Maybe we should go back and apologize."

"It's fine, he just had an alien encounter," Ginger said. "I would've killed for that at ANY point during my life. I mean the whole reason I moved to Britain in the first place is because I wanted to meet aliens."

They meandered back towards the Holo-den, each supporting a few boxes since they'd order cinnamon bites and cheese sticks in addition to their pizza. The Doctor suddenly remembered they'd forgotten to get drinks, so he left Ginger to bring the boxes to the room while he went to get some.

She put the boxes on the table in front of the sofa and took a cheese stick before plopping down and taking a bite. She was quickly bored - left alone in a silent room.

"Computer," she said aloud to the room, half-joking because she knew it was a holodeck and didn't expect anything to happen. "Play Modest Mouse."

'Working on Leaving the Living' instantly started playing, seemingly without a source. Ginger laughed and sat back on the sofa with her slice of pizza, clearly impressed. "Okay, rad, definitely. Existential, perfect song to listen to while high. I've got another one in mind, though. Computer, guess which Modest Mouse song I want to hear."

Again, she didn't really expect it to do anything, so she was really impressed when 'Medication' started playing. She laughed again and sprawled out on her side of the couch, taking a bite. "Really fuckin' rad."

The Doctor walked back into the room with the drinks, and felt a curious sense of sadness and peace envelop him with the sound of the guitars. He stepped farther into the room, just far enough to see Ginger lounging over her side of the sofa with her eyes closed. She was eating pizza and seemed to be feeling that same existential, out of body sensation this song was making him feel.

The Doctor shook his head, amused. "You're an absolute late 90s stoner cliche, Ginger."

"I...resent that?" Ginger raised her eyebrows without opening her eyes as if unsure whether he was insulting her.

"You're listening to Modest Mouse while high."

"Hey, to be fair, Modest Mouse is some of the _best _music to listen to when you're high," Ginger said, opening her eyes and sitting up slightly to defend herself. "This song is so _good_, though." She sat back again and stared at the ceiling as she sang along, under her breath. "_This is the part of me that thinks outer space is all dead. This is the part of me that wishes it was with it..."_

The Doctor put down the drinks on the coffee table and sat next to her while he started munching on a cheese stick.

"_This is the part of me that's trying to be funny...This is the part of me that...loves my parents..." _She sounded almost sarcastic singing that last line.

The Doctor suddenly recalled the lyrics, even though it had been years since he'd heard them himself. He started singing along softly as well.

"_This is the part of me that thinks that ants are cavemen...This is the part of me that thinks all humans are ants..."_

Ginger realized he was singing too and sat up to look him in the eye. "_This is the part of me that...learns from sitcoms...This is the part of me that...Means nothing..."_

The vocals and the guitar stopped, replaced by the sound of birds and traffic. It was a sort of free-floating musical limbo as the song geared up to reach its climax. Then the instruments started again, this time with the crash of drums and a new cathartic melody encouraging reckless abandon. The two of them looked at each other, both having the same impulse and being too high to control themselves.

When the vocals started up again, the two of them stood up on the sofa and started screaming the lyrics in each other's faces, gesticulating wildly.

"_And I doooooooon't know!" _Ginger hopped down from the sofa onto the floor and sang up at him. "_Well I could go away and you could wish that I had stayed or just...STAYED GONE! And I dooooooon't know!__ And I doooooon't know at all! So!" _The Doctor hopped down from the sofa and danced around with her in circles. "_Out. Of the context. And into. What you meant. And you know. Your reasons. You don't know who you are, but you know who you wanna be!"_

They both took a deep breath to continue screaming the lyrics when there was a loud crash, and all the lights went out.

"_And I..."_ They both began getting quieter as they looked around nervously.

Suddenly the room was bare of all furniture, and the walls had these weird red symbols showing up on them. A loud siren started going off.

_"...don't know...at all..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of this adventure coming later today! Thank you for your patience while I've been on hiatus!


	32. Trapped in a Box

"Oh no," the Doctor said, eyes getting wide. "No. No no no no, this is not happening!"

"What is it? What's not happening?" Ginger asked, starting to get a bit freaked out herself.

"We've gotta move," he said, taking her by the arm and dragging her from the room. As soon as they exited the holodeck, it sealed itself off behind them and in place of a door was another one of those flashing red symbols.

"My pizza!" Ginger screamed, trying to rush back towards it.

"It's gone, we've got to move!" the Doctor said. "The TARDIS deleted that room to save power."

"But I payed for that!" Ginger said indignantly, letting herself be dragged along.

"This is bad, this is very bad," the Doctor said.

"Explain to me what's happening!" Ginger demanded.

"We've gone too long without refueling the TARDIS so now the fuel gauge is on empty. The TARDIS will continue deleting rooms to conserve energy, but if we can make it to the front and steer her towards a rift in space-time before she finishes doing that then we'll be fine. Of course, I happen to be very high right now so I'm not moving or thinking fast at all, which makes this very bad."

"What happens if we don't make it on time?" Ginger asked, alarmed.

"We're idling in the Time Vortex," he said, gravely. "We'd just drift and become space junk. We'd either run out of air and suffocate or careen out of control and hit something which would smash us to bits."

"Wait, it's deleting rooms?" Ginger asked, seeing the kitchen door seal up right as they were passing by.

"Yeah, that's phase one."

"My things!" Ginger said, breaking free from him and rushing towards her room.

"Ginger no! We don't have time for this!" He rushed after her anyway.

"If you think I'm letting it delete my electronics, you're crazy!" The door to her room was still there, so she hurried inside.

"Ginger, we can get you new ones, let's go!"

He followed her into her room.

"Ginger, if you're still in here when the room is deleted, then you'll be killed instantly! This isn't worth your life!"

"That's where you're wrong! They are my life!"

"Ginger." He took her by the arms again. "Let's go."

She grabbed her laptop case which luckily contained her Walkman and CD collection. She looked around, frantically pulling away from him. "Where is it?"

"There's no time-"

"Doctor, where is it?"

"What?"

"My iPod, Doctor, my iPod! I can't go anywhere without my TARDIS!"

"I know the feeling," he said, frustrated and frightened. "There won't be any going anywhere if my TARDIS dies!"

"Doctor-"

"Is that her, there?" He pointed to the bed.

There it was, on Ginger's pillow where it had been last discarded. The little blue box that was bigger on the inside. "Sweet mother of Shaggy, yes!" She snatched it up and planted a grateful kiss on its front surface.

The lights began to flicker. "Ginger, we have to go now!" the Doctor said, grabbing her arm again and pulling her out of the room just as it was deleted behind her.

They ran along the hallway, noticing as they went that more and more doors were being blocked off and replaced with those strange symbols. They made it to the control room and Doctor let Ginger go, bounding forward to access the controls.

"Hang in there, old girl, we'll be in Cardiff soon," the Doctor murmured to the TARDIS as he flipped switches. He was about to press the button to send them on their way when the lights all went out. "No," he whispered. He whipped around, noticing that all had gone still and silent and the only door that remained in the TARDIS was the one to the outside. He spoke again, voice rising frantically with every word. "No, no, no, no!"

"What is it?" Ginger asked, shivering suddenly as her breath came out in clouds. She pulled her arms in tight to her chest, still holding onto her electronics. "What's happening?"

"Nothing's happening!" the Doctor shouted. "Nothing ever will! We ran out of time! The TARDIS is dead, and soon we will be too!"

"No," Ginger shook her head, refusing to believe it. "That's impossible. There's something we can do, there's always something we can do!" She started running towards the outer doors.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he cautioned. "The life support systems are down. If you open those doors, you'll let out the rest of our oxygen."

She turned on heel and snapped at him. "Well come on, _do _something!"

"Like what?" he asked in a low voice.

She put her electronics on the floor. "I dunno!" she said, throwing her hands in the air. "Boot up the engine, call a tow, reverse the polarity of something!"

Once again her complete lack of knowledge astounded him and caused him to become indignant. "Again with that! Reverse the polarity, she says, reverse the polarity! What exactly is it that you think reversing the polarity _does_?"

"I don't know," she replied, tone bordering on dangerous. "That's sort of more your area, isn't it?"

"Ugh, if I could just think!" he shouted to the ceiling, fingers curling into claws in his hair as he tried to think of something. "Think, think, think! My head is so slow, and it's your fault!"

"My fault!" Ginger was raising her voice now, but it was trembling slightly. "How is this my fault?"

"If I hadn't taken those capsules with you then I could think of a way out of this! I didn't even want to!"

"Hey, you made that choice freely, buddy! Nobody was holding a gun to your head! I told you that you didn't have to! So don't blame me! This is all because you let the fuel run out!"

"And I wouldn't've ignored it if I hadn't been high!" he shouted, frustrations reaching a peak. "I knew this was a bad idea from the start! I knew it! I said it to myself, that this is exactly the kind of reckless thing I would've done as a teenager which meant it was a bad idea!"

"Why did you do it then?" she snapped. 

"I don't know! That's my answer more and more lately, have you noticed? You just say things and for some reason I think 'that seems like a good idea' against my better judgement and just go along with it!"

"Oh have a backbone!"

"I usually do! But you just...AHH!" He screamed out in frustration. "I don't know what's wrong with me!" He turned to her and gripped her arms. "How long? How long were we down there?"

"Let go of me-"

"Ginger, it's important that you tell me how much time passed between the first warning alarm that beeped while we were making Candy and the second one that flashed the day I showed you the Shaggy meme."

"I don't know-"

"You do. I lost track of time, but you didn't. How long?"

"I don't know!" she shouted. She thought about it. "A week!"

"And how long between then and now?"

"I, uh..." She swallowed hard as it hit her. "A month. It's been about a month since then."

His voice was surprisingly stable as he let this sink in. "A month." Then he got angry again. "We've been sitting down there out of our minds for over a _month_? And you didn't think in any of this time to maybe warn me about how long we let that go on?"

"It didn't occur to me!" she shouted. "You never told me I was in charge of keeping time! This is your ship, you should know better!"

"You're right, I should know better!" He let go of her and turned away. "I should've known better than to let you anywhere _near _my ship. You just...make my head cloudy. I don't know what way is up anymore."

She was slightly stung but decided not to show it. "You're high and in the time vortex. That explains everything. Now if you can just fly us out of here-"

"Oh don't you ever listen, Ginger?" the Doctor rounded on her now again. "Haven't you heard a word I've said? We're floating space junk now! There's nothing we can do! If we'd gotten here a little sooner, we'd be in Cardiff waiting for her to refuel. But we're not. Because you made the frankly insane choice that our lives were worth less than your laptop!"

"I didn't think-"

"That's right, you didn't think! You never think, do you? You just jump right in, no plan, no regard for consequences! You don't think you have a future so you've got to drag me down with you!"

"I didn't mean-"

"Was it worth it, hm? I could replace those computers when the TARDIS rebooted, but I couldn't replace you! Battery life is an easy thing to replicate, but human life isn't! You don't get that back! Once it's gone, it's gone! We're both going to die here!"

Something about hearing that out loud finally got through to her. "Stop it!" Her voice cracked and trembled, and the Doctor was so surprised to see tears in her eyes that he couldn't help but obey. "Stop it, just stop yelling at me, please!"

He'd expected retaliation - she always yelled back, that was her thing. But here she was - broken, small. He could easily see what she would've been like as a small, frightened child.

"You don't get it," she said, her body shaking so hard that tears fell from her eyes like an avalanche. "I know it doesn't make sense, I know _I_ don't make sense! I wasn't thinking! I'm sorry! My laptop, Walkman, and CD collection are the only real tangible things I own!"

"You could buy another one-"

"I didn't buy those!" Her eyes darted about frantically as she began to hyperventilate. "God, you think I've ever had the money to buy things that expensive? Sure, I inherited the Walkman from an older kid when I was small, but I went through hell to get it back after...And then the laptop? I stole that! I'd just gotten out of...And it was that night with those things and people were looting and...Well, I saw a laptop for grabs and I took it. Maybe it's not the right thing to do but...They're a part of me! When something bad happened to me, they were always there for me. They let me escape! And I needed to escape a lot! They're all that I have! Of course you'll never understand what that's like. I never had anything. My God I wasn't even good enough for Scooby Doo shaped waffles! And you gave me that iPod! That's the first time in my life that anyone had ever given me anything! You could've replaced it but...It just felt wrong and...And I've gone and killed us because I can't let things go. Stupid! I'm so stupid! I always do this, I always ruin everything! And now you hate me too, and I can't handle it so please just stop yelling at me! I can't take it!"

He could see her knees starting to wobble so he put out his hands to gently guide her by the arms onto the floor. She let go of her devices and buried her head in her hands, beginning to rock in place. He wanted to hug her, but knew he shouldn't. Instead he sat with her, looking straight forward with their backs to the console.

"I'm sorry," he said, uselessly. "I didn't realize it meant so much to you."

"Neither did I," she sniffled. "Now I've killed us because I was stupid."

"Well, I was just as stupid as you were," the Doctor said. "Really, everything you said was true. I should've been more careful. So it's both of us. What really gets me is that we could've done so much more. There was so much left to do, to see. So much we'll never finish."

"Yeah," she breathed, faking a smile and trying to be brave. "For starters, we were half way through a song."

"We were, weren't we?" he said. "Well my TARDIS may be dying, but you've still got yours. Wanna play us out?"

She hesitated, looking torn. She took her iPod in her hands and unraveled the earpods, handing him one end and keeping the other.

"It'll take us forever to find that song on here," she reminded him. "It's a Shuffle. There's not really a screen."

He took out his sonic and shone it on the iPod briefly. "See if that works."

She turned it on and it was somehow on the song, though it had skipped ahead to the very last verse. That suited her just fine.

Ginger shook her head. "I always mishear that one lyric."

"Which one?"

"Every lyric website I've ever heard says that it says 'that guy was complaining'...I always heard 'bet God was complaining'...Which makes sense because like if he was looking at the ceiling saying his nose isn't that big...It's the Sistine Chapel, right?"

"I always like your lyrics better than the posted ones. They're always vaguely existential and fake-deep."

She laughed, softly. They both sang along to the last lines of the song. _"We're all doctors trading...sadness for numbness..."_ Without thinking about it, she reached out and took his free hand. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, surprised at the gesture. He chose not to say anything, afraid that if he acknowledged it she'd pull away._"Grass looks much greener but it's...green painted cement...The mayor's machines are there...Cleaning the pavement...You can't make dirt clean so we'll...Just lemon-scent it..."_

The song ended and a new, more up-beat one came on. Ginger smiled softly, and turned off the iPod.

"We are not listening to this one," she chuckled. "I love it and would just love the dramatic irony of it playing us out, but it's a bit on the nose."

"That sounded familiar. What was it?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You know your late 90s Modest Mouse, but not your early 90s No Doubt? Doctor, quite frankly, I'm a bit ashamed of you at the moment. Forgetting Gwen Stefani like that."

"Alright, alright, I get it," he grinned. "Why is No Doubt a little on the nose?"

"You honestly don't remember your ska punk, Doc?" she teased. She sighed. "Alright, you asked for it."

She turned the iPod back on, and instantly Gwen began singing at them.

_"Trapped in a box..."_

"Ohhhh," the Doctor said, suddenly remembering. "Yeah. That is pretty funny, isn't it?"

She turned it back off and put it in her pocket.

"Amazing," he said, watching her do this.

"What is?" she inquired.

"You. How far we've come since we met each other."

She chuckled. "Yeah. Long way from Camden, eh?"

"I don't mean like that. First time I met you, you were so uncomfortable with having a real conversation that you had to turn on music to put yourself at ease. Now you put it away without being asked. And not just that. You've grown so much and I'm...very proud of you. I'm glad you gave me the chance to get to know you. You've come so far from Camden because you finally let yourself have a chance at doing what you want. No more holding yourself back."

She looked at him sadly. "Maybe I should've held back," she looked down at her feet, trying not to cry. "I knew from the beginning that this was a bad idea. It's why I said no so many times and kept pushing you away."

"That's just anxiety talking," he assured her. "You didn't trust me, and I'm sure you had your reasons-"

"No, this isn't about the many ways I thought you could hurt me," she said, voice cracking. "I admit it was that at the beginning, for the most part. I don't trust men, don't want to take my feet off the ground, blah blah blah...And I guess I was sort of afraid of the fact that I was starting to kind of like you and that was new so I knew it had the potential to go very badly for me...I mean who would want to be my friend, right? It's a trick or a joke and if it isn't I'll just be a disappointment...But that's sort of it, you know? That first time we met, I was starting to warm up to you and that was scary. I'm bad luck. I ruin everything around me. So it stands to reason that if I liked you even a little and I let you stay around then something would happen to you too. So I was just trying to protect both of us. Sure, 99% of it was about me, that first time you asked. But the more you hung around, the more that number shifted and...I just knew something like this would happen."

"You knew you'd be trapped in a time machine slowly losing air?"

"Not this specifically, but with my track record for disasters I'm not the least bit surprised."

"Ginger, that's ridiculous," he said, earnestly. "You're not bad luck. You're brilliant, mostly. You keep things interesting. Where did you even get an idea like that?"

She shrugged. "Doesn't matter now, does it?"

"I think I should apologize to you too. I'm sorry I didn't realize immediately that you were possessed in the Maze. I should've known you never would've agreed of your own free will."

"What?" she asked. Then she understood. "Doc, I...I wasn't being mind-controlled when you asked me to leave with you."

"I don't understand," he said.

She looked at him in silence for a moment before looking away and sighing. "You didn't have to go through it, so you don't fully understand it. Those little worm things in the Maze...they work by getting through your walls - your mental defenses. Some people have more than others. They got Alex because of the Interface - it made her trust it. So she didn't really have to suffer much because it only gradually took her over. But for people like me...Well you know better than anyone that my defense mechanisms are practically impenetrable. They had to use a brute force attack. They used psychological warfare and that awful buzzing noise to break me down. And I'm honestly not sure if it would've worked on me at all if...Well, you asked me to go away with you that day. You used Vanessa Carlton." He was surprised to hear a note of warmth in her voice. "You made me laugh. I was ready to take a leap of faith and trust you. Completely. That was a free decision that I made, before they'd even started to pry me open. I'm used to burying what I want deep down, because what's the point? I won't get Scooby Doo waffles, I won't ever see an alien, I won't ever perform on stage, I won't ever have a friend...I won't get out." She paused, seemingly hovering on the edge of some bleak memory. She shook it off. "But I don't think that's the only reason the room didn't show my deepest wishes. I think it's because, in a big way, all I really wanted in that moment was happening. You'd asked me to go, and I'd said yes. I could leave. I could get out." She looked back at him. "With you." She squeezed his hand. "My friend. I fought so hard against their control. I lasted all the way up into the Maze. Even though the pain was excruciating - physically and emotionally. Even though I couldn't hear myself think, and they were showing me the most horrible things. I still held on. But then you came to rescue me, and I looked up and saw it was you. You were there. You were real. And you'd come for me. And I trusted you so completely that it left a vulnerability in my defenses. And that's when they got me."

"So you're saying it was still my fault?" he said, half-joking.

"No! Not at all just...I'm trying to explain that those things I said to you...I thought you knew by now I hadn't meant them. I said all those horrible things later because..." She looked away helplessly. "I don't even know why. I don't know why I do the things I do, I don't really understand myself. I just act. And act out. And maybe I was scared or angry...But there was no excuse. I wanted to hurt you so you'd go away. I want to say that it was me trying to protect you from how bad things can get but...I'm more selfish than that. Maybe if you went away like everyone else then it wouldn't hurt so much. I don't know. Nothing about me ever makes any sense." She looked at him again. "I'm so sorry. For this." She looked around. "For everything, actually."

"It's alright," the Doctor said.

"Is it?"

"Well, no, but I forgive you. I'll always forgive you, whether or not you believe you deserve it." He sighed, smiling sadly.

"Hey Doc? Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, while there's still air left in this old bird."

"How does this all work, anyway? The rooms deleting themselves and stuff. I never thought to ask."

"Ah, well, technically a TARDIS is only the one section," the Doctor said. "You can treat them more or less a transport vehicle, maybe set up a hammock under the engine for long missions. But people like me who like to live in them can modify them. You program more rooms with different functions and abilities, especially if more than one person is on board at a time. You can delete rooms or save the blueprints to the archive so you can reinstall them if you wish."

"Kinda like a trash bin on a computer," Ginger said.

"Yes, exactly like that," he agreed. "Right now we've lost power, so rather than being deleted, most of the rooms have been saved in the archive. If I could just get this old bird charged, I could start sorting them out and choose which ones to keep."

She nodded and looked up, seeing one of those strange symbols from before etched on the side of the control panel. "I have another question, Doctor."

"Which is?"

"What are those strange symbols that kept popping up? What did they mean?"

"They're Gallifreyan," the Doctor explained. "Those were reminding me about the low fuel and the consequences of leaving it on empty."

"They just...they look so familiar to me," Ginger said, as something clicked with her. "They sort of...they remind me of this pocket watch I have. Here, let me show you." She let go of his hand and reached in her laptop case. "I tend to keep my important stuff in the laptop case. See?" She waved something in his face. "Extra wigs. Just for emergencies." She put the mass of synthetic hair back in the pocket and pulled out the small pocket watch the Doctor had seen before. "Here it is. Remember, I told you my birth parents left me in a bus station as a newborn? This was the only distinguishing thing on me. Just this fob watch draped over me. With this weird little symbol on it, see? I think it must be a coat of arms or some obscure doodle because I never could find it on a Google search." She put it back into the pocket of her laptop case, not really thinking much more of it. "Anyway, those Gallifreyan symbols kinda remind me of that."

The Doctor knew now was probably his last moment to tell her the truth. "Ginger-"

"God, this is all so frustrating, you know?" Ginger cut him off. "We're running on empty. Anywhere on Earth, that would just mean calling up a tow truck to get us to a Shell station. You telling me there are no cosmic tow trucks waiting to haul us off? No wizard friends waiting to say 'Accio TARDIS?'"

He chuckled. "No, no cosmic tow trucks. Wait. That's actually a pretty good idea. You might be onto something there."

She was utterly mystified by this sudden change. "Onto what?"

"Oh you're brilliant!" the Doctor said, hopping to his feet and offering her a hand to get her on her feet as well. "Not a cosmic tow truck, exactly. Accio TARDIS is pretty close to what we're doing here. Good ole JK! No chance she'll ever become problematic!" He dashed down a hatch to the space under the engine room.

"What are you on about?" Ginger asked, following him. She looked around, realizing she's never been down here. The room was filled with many engine parts and tools, and one small hammock. "Wait, is this your room?"

"Nah, I have my own room," the Doctor said. "I just usually end up sleeping here. It's convenient. Now where is it?"

"Where's what, Doctor?"

"Aha!" he said, finding two large metal ovals.

"What are those?" she asked.

"Time magnets!"

"I'm sorry?"

"Like a sort of beacon. Forgot I had them." He hopped up to the control room and attached on to the control panel. He threw her the other one, which she miraculously caught.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked. She could feel a headache coming on and knew it had something to do with holding the magnet.

He finished punching some numbers into the computer read-out on the front of the device on the console then came over to her. "The time magnets are quantum entangled. I've booted up that one, now we need to punch coordinates into this one. It has a small Vortex Manipulator in the center, only good for one trip. It'll pop you to the place of your choice, then you can press the Recall button and it'll begin towing the other magnet closer to it. Which means-"

She grinned as she got it. "It'll pull the TARDIS along with it!" 

He clapped his hands. "Right!"

"Okay, so we should go now!" she said. "How do you work this thing?"

"Not us," the Doctor said. "You. You'll wear it and I'll stay behind."

Her eyes got wide as flying saucers. "Me?"

"It only has enough juice to carry one person. And that person is going to be you."

She began shaking her head. "No. Absolutely not. I'm not leaving you."

"If it all works according to plan, you can just press the button and bring me to you-"

"But if it doesn't work?"

He looked at her sadly. "Then at least you're safe."

"No. I don't accept that. Why don't you do it? You know what you're doing, at least-"

"It's not that hard, you just press this button-"

"No, you don't understand," she said, anxiously. "I'm not good at these kinds of things. You can't rely on me to handle things, I just split, you know? I'm a wreck, and kind of an idiot-"

"Where's all this coming from?" he asked her. "You're brilliant, as you remind anyone who will listen! You've always been good in a crisis! Now suddenly you can't do this? It's really simple."

"Oh you say that, but then it's too much pressure and I just...I crack under pressure."

"Since when?"

"This isn't the good Hell Week kind of pressure! This is real stuff and I have to be grown up about it and what makes you think I can do this?"

"Because you can," he assured her, reaching out and gripping her arms. "I know you can. I have complete faith in your ability to do this. I believe - no, I know - that you can do this. I've seen you do much more impossible and difficult things. I trust you, and know you can do this."

She shook her head some more. "You trust me? Don't be a sucker! I'm not the least bit trustworthy, I haven't earned that-"

"Ginger I'm not going anywhere without my TARDIS," the Doctor said. "If I have to, I'll go down with this ship. She's all I have. I stole her, you know. Now I've had her so long that she's a part of me. So it has to be you."

She swallowed, suddenly getting it. "I understand," she said. "But I don't like the idea of leaving you. I don't want you to be here on your own if something goes wrong. I'm not reliable. I can't be trusted with big things like this. I don't even know where the fueling station is!"

"I've keyed the coordinates in," the Doctor assured her. "It's in Cardiff, it's a rift in space-time."

"I'm just going to fuck this all up-"

"Ginger, you trusted me and now I'm trusting you. You can do this. You're the only one who can do this." She looked as if she was going to start crying again so put a hand to her face, tilting her chin up to look at him. "You can do this. I know it seems hard when you're doubting yourself and your anxiety is shouting at you so loudly. But it's actually very simple if you break it down. I'll do most of the work putting in coordinates. All you have to do is press the button to get there and then press the button to bring me down. I won't ask if you think you can do that for me. Because I know you can."

His hands were so warm and gentle on her face. She took a shuddering breath. "Okay. I'll do it. But we've gotta be quick or I'll talk myself out of it."

He let go of her and began strapping the time magnet onto her. She didn't understand why the sudden disappearance of this physical contact felt like such a loss to her.

"You've got this," he said. "You ready, Rabbit? You know what to do?"

She hesitated before nodding.

"Brilliant," he grinned. "Hop to it, whenever you're ready."

She hesitated again, looking positively terrified. "Doctor?"

"What is it, Ginger?"

She looked as if she were going to say something but through better of it. "Allons-y!"

Then she pressed the button and disappeared, leaving the Doctor standing there all alone in his dead TARDIS.

He his breath came in a shuddering white cloud in the now oppressive silence. "Allons-y," he repeated, softly.

...

Ginger had never been to Wales before, but she didn't take the time to take that in as she pulled the time magnet from her chest and pressed the button.

"Come on, come on," she said.

Nothing happened.

"Come on, please," she muttered, pressing it a few more times.

...

Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor felt it give a shuddering jolt.

"Yes," he whispered. "That's it, girl. Go to Ginger. You can do this."

...

"Dammit, why won't you work?" she shouted, prompting a confused stare from the only other person on the street as she pushed it another few times. She flung it to the ground in frustration, before sinking to the ground herself. "Why won't you work? You stupid, miserable, broken thing, why won't you work? Now you've done it. You've killed him and stranded yourself in Cardiff. This is your fault. You thought it could be different, but you're bad luck. And now you've put it onto him and...And you'll never see him again. He won't come back. And it's your fault."

Just then, she looked up to see a familiar blue police box appear from a wormhole and skid to the ground. She scooped up the Vortex Manipulator and jumped to her feet again, not even realizing she was running.

She flung open the TARDIS doors and rushed inside as the Doctor emerged from his bunk just in time to grin at her. "You did it!" he said.

She ran up to him, eyes wide as if she couldn't believe it. "You moron!" she shouted, breathlessly. She smacked him in the chest with the palm of her hand, shoving him backwards.

"Ouch!" he protested. "Not the warm welcome I was expecting! What was that for?"

"Exactly!" she shouted, smacking him a few more times. "What did you do that for? Going and trusting someone like me to do that! Only a complete idiot would put their life in my hands! I always fuck it up!"

"Well you didn't," he replied with a shaky grin, walking backwards so he was around the other side of the console out of her reach. "I'm still here."

Her eyes landed on her laptop case on the floor. "And you let me run off to strand myself in Cardiff without my things? No money, no nothing?"

"I guess we both didn't think-"

She raised a hand again and he braced himself to be smacked again, but she raised it to her mouth as her body started heaving with sobs. "What did you do that for, you idiot? I thought I'd killed you too! It would've been my fault, just like it always is and I'd never forgive myself. And then I'd be stuck in Cardiff, knowing you were out there suffocating somewhere and I'd done that! Because I'm too stupid to follow directions and you were too stupid to know that!" She moved towards him again and he braced himself to get out of her way, but she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him close, burying her face in his shoulder.

"It's alright," he said, putting his arms around her waist. He was surprised by this sudden affection, but also absolutely heartbroken by it. "Shhh, it's alright. You did perfectly."

"I don't want you to die, dummy," she murmured, inconsolably.

"I don't want either of us to die, Rabbit," he said. "And you know I'm all about hugs, but could you ease up a bit? I should be able to breathe now we're back in Earth's atmosphere, but your Slayer strength is crushing my lungs..."

"What?"

"I'm not saying to stop hugging, just not to squeeze so hard."

"I'm not hugging you," she said. "I don't hug."

"Then what do you call this, then?"

"I..." Then she realized what she was doing. "I actually don't know. I've never done this before."

"Really?" the Doctor was saddened by this response, but decided to ignore it. "Actually, Ginger, there's something we need to talk about." He pulled away and held her by the shoulders so that he could see her reaction.

"What?" she sniffled, starting to look mildly miffed like her old self again.

"You're shaking," he observed with some concern.

"Well yeah. But that can't be what we need to talk about." She looked at him more closely. "What is it?"

"I should've told you this ages ago," he stammered. "You deserve to know...I just didn't know how to tell you." He lifted a hand to brush away some of the tears that still lingered on her cheeks.

"Doctor..." She was becoming concerned. "Tell me what?"

"I tried to tell you. It just wasn't the right time. Always the wrong time. I kept saying I'd tell you when you were better, but you've gotten better. So I said I'd wait for a time when you weren't high...But that didn't end up being so easy to schedule. I've started to tell you so many times but I kept...putting it off." 

The TARDIS was beginning to come alive again and its natural instinct was to berate the Doctor for allowing her to die in the first place, but it instantly realized that the Doctor and Ginger were having a moment so resolved to reboot as quietly as possible. The lights came on and Ginger peered into the Doctor's eyes. Her head was swimming, but through murky waters. Her stomach was in knots. She suddenly felt very strange.

"Doctor..." she said, slowly. "What is it?" She was suddenly certain that she knew what he was going to say, and wasn't sure if she was as petrified about that as she ought to be. "What do you need to tell me?"

"I just..." He swallowed hard, imploring her to not take this badly. "You deserve to know-"

But they were interrupted by a voice from outside.

"What the _hell _happened in here?"

The Doctor and Ginger turned their heads towards the still-open TARDIS doors to see that it was Alex had spoken. And she wasn't alone. Jack was with her as well.


	33. Red Red Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Michael Sheen as this new enigmatic character that I may or may not be setting up for an arc...>.>

Alex looked at the Doctor and Ginger like they'd lost their minds. "Are we...interrupting something?"

"We can go if you two would rather be alone," Jack teased.

"What?" the Doctor and Ginger said in unison. "No." Ginger swatted away the Doctor's hands and turned to face the newcomers.

"Seriously, though," Alex said as she and Jack came inside. "What happened? Why's it gone all dark except for those few lights? Where are all the rooms?"

"Er, well," the Doctor and Ginger said, both simultaneously ruffling their own hair.

"It's a long story," the Doctor said. "Basically, for the next 24 hours or so, there is no rest of the TARDIS."

"What?" Ginger asked, alarmed at this timetable. "Why so long?"

"Because we let her run completely out of fuel, Ginger," the Doctor reminded her. "We've got to fill the tank, so to speak."

"Wait a second, wait a second," Ginger said, waving her arms around. "I thought we were in Cardiff. Did we get the coordinates wrong? Are we in Ealing?"

"No," Jack said. "You're in Cardiff. We just also happen to be in Cardiff."

"Then what are you lot doing here?"

"I was actually hoping you might know," said Alex. "When I heard the TARDIS, I thought maybe you'd gotten one too."

"Gotten one what?" asked the Doctor.

Alex and Jack reached into their pockets and produced little cards with hearts on them. "We both got these, telling us to come here," explained Jack. 

"A Hallmark Valentine card?" Ginger mocked.

"Not quite," said Alex.

Ginger took a look at Alex's and read it off.

_"Roses aren't red_  
_Tardises aren't blue_  
_Gingers are bitter_  
_But are you too?"_

"Not really too clever, is it?" the Doctor said, skeptically.

"There's more," said Alex. "Read on."

_"It's time we met, Alex Mitchell,"_ Ginger read. _"Your current existence is intriguing and full of possibilities. Meet me for tea at the Steep-le tea shop in Cardiff at 3 PM British Earth Time on the 13th. There is much to discuss. Bring along Jack, as he'll insist on coming anyway and it'll give you both peace of mind. And anyone who manages to crash land in Wales on that day is welcome to attend as well. Don't worry, we shall have enough time on our own to discuss your present situation with Kira." _She looked up. "What present situation with Kira?"

"Beats me," Alex shrugged.

"Who is this?" the Doctor asked.

"It's just signed 'C'," Alex said.

"And you got one too?" he asked Jack.

Jack nodded and tried to hand his to the Doctor, but Ginger snatched it from him over-eagerly and read it aloud.

_"Gingers are red_  
_This TARDIS is blue_  
_Doctors are falling_  
_So get a clue."_

"Someone needs to talk to this person about these rhymes," the Doctor complained. "What does the rest of the note say?"

"_I am eagerly awaiting out meeting, Captain_," Ginger read aloud. "Ooh," she teased. "Looks like someone's got himself an admirer."

"More than one," Jack replied with a grin.

Ginger read on. "_Young Alex has the address. You're invited because, of course, you'd never allow her to go without you...but I have to admit to a certain excitement about meeting you. It'll be 3 PM British Earth Time on the 13th in Cardiff. I'm leaving early afternoon open in case you wish to socialize with other Cardiff residents in the meantime. After all, it must've been years since Alex stepped foot on Welsh soil. It also gives you time to factor any, shall we say, drop-ins into your plans." _She looked up. "This guy knew we would be here. Another time traveler?"

"Or some kind of pre-cog potentially?" the Doctor concurred.

"Hold on," Ginger said as a detail caught up to her. "What day is it?"

"February 13th," Alex said. "Didn't you know?"

"To be honest, I didn't even know it's February," the Doctor admitted. "I was aiming for Cardiff, not paying particular attention to the date."

Alex zeroes in on the pair of them. "What's up with you two? You're weird...er than usual."

"Nothing," the Doctor said. 

"Nothing's up," Ginger agreed.

"No something's up," Alex insisted. "You're all fluttery and anxious...and look at the state of you both! I mean that might just be the crash-landing, but Ginger looks all flushed and there's something really weird about you both that I can't quite put my finger on-"

Jack thought he was beginning to pick up on what that weird thing was and rushed to distract her. "We should be going," he said. "We'll be late for lunch with Gwen."

Alex was shocked that she'd forgotten they'd been on their way there. "Gwen! Right, yeah! Time to go?"

"Alex is a bit overeager to get to see Gwen, as always," Jack grinned.

"Am not!" Alex protested. "It's just rude to keep people waiting." 

Jack smiled, smugly. "Alex did always have a bit of a crush on Gwen."

"Did not!"

"You did too! Always following her around when you were a kid. It was cute, really. It's how everyone in Torchwood knew you were gay before you did."

"I was not into Gwen," she scoffed. "She was much too old for me."

"Yeah, a total MILF, am I right?" Jack teased.

Alex made a face. "I am _not _comfortable with you using that word."

"Regardless!" Jack said. "A harmless childhood crush on an older woman - who doesn't have those? I bet Ginger Snaps over here had one on Gillian Anderson."

"Don't act like that's some big proclamation, Harkness," Ginger rolled her eyes, amused. "I was a year old when the X-Files premiered. Every 90s kid had a crush on Gillian Anderson, it's hardwired into our DNA and never fades."

"I didn't have a crush on Gwen, though," Alex said, firmly. "She was just a really cool person to hang around. Really nice, but also super tough. Always said the right things to you. Very smart, but in a different way from Tosh. SUPER badass. I used to want to be a cop because of her."

Ginger made a face. "Ew."

Alex rolled her eyes. "I don't anymore! She was just really inspiring, and dressed really well and oh my god I totally had a crush on Gwen Cooper."

Jack put an arm around her shoulder. "You did. And it was cute."

"But we really have got to go," Alex said. She turned her attention back to the Doctor and Ginger. "You two can get back to your snogging or whatever."

Ginger and the Doctor instantly began spluttering and scrambling to assure them that they were definitely not snogging.

"Don't be ridiculous, Alex, they weren't snogging," Jack said, before they could get to it.

"What makes you so sure, Jack?" Alex asked, surprised he was taking their side.

"She's wearing green lipstick."

"So?"

He leaned in close to her and stage mumbled for them all to hear. "He's not."

Alex rolled her eyes and smirked. "You know what, actually? You two should come to lunch with us. Gwen won't mind two extra people."

"Actually, Ginger and I were just in the middle of something," the Doctor began. Alex gave him a knowing look. "It was _not _snogging-"

Ginger cut him off quickly. "No, actually, lunch sounds great. I'm starving. And you did say it be 24 hours before the TARDIS could fly again, so where's the harm? We've got nothing but time! We can talk later."

"Actually, Alex," Jack said. "I need to talk to them for a moment. Wait outside?"

"Yeah, alright," Alex said, too busy being excited about lunch to be annoyed at being left out. "Don't be long, though."

Alex left, and Jack turned to the Doctor and Ginger. "So what's happening here?" he asked in a low voice. "Not to play detective, but are you two high or have you just been crying?" He saw the looks on their faces. "Both? Okay, can someone explain to me what I've just walked into."

"It's not a big deal, honestly," the Doctor said.

"Yeah, I mean," Ginger said, smirking. "It could've been, should've been worse than you would ever know."

The Doctor exchanged a glance and finished the quote with her. "The dashboard melted, but we still have the radio?"

Jack just looked irritated at their childish giggles. "What?"

"Honestly, Jack," the Doctor said. "Don't you know your Modest Mouse?"

He shook his head. "This isn't the time to be making quips. This is serious. I'm actually worried about you."

"Relax, Jack," Ginger said, rolling her eyes. "It's just a few THC capsules. It's all safe."

Jack glanced from one of them to the other. "You swiped them from the hospital. Didn't you?" He saw her face and sighed. "That does sound like something you would do, but why would you go along with that, Doctor? I mean, that seems a bit immoral for you."

"It's just a bit of fun," he said, seeming less sure. "Harmless."

"Yeah, it's not like we had to face consequences for our actions," Ginger defended herself. "Well, I mean, we almost did, but we got the TARDIS to Cardiff in time so no one died."

"So that's what happened here?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows and gesturing about. "You...You almost got yourselves killed because you were too high to take care of your spaceship? I've got to be honest, that's more than a little worrying. I don't want Alex seeing the two of you like this. Especially you, Doctor. I mean, Alex looks up to you."

"We didn't know Alex would be in Cardiff today!" the Doctor protested. "We didn't even know we'd be in Cardiff today!"

"Regardless," Jack said. "I'm not angry, I'm just worried. When's the last time either of you were sober? I know time is relative in here so that makes it harder, but...estimate for me."

"Er..." Ginger said. "A while?"

Jack sighed. "That's what I thought. You've got to be more mindful. If you only got high for fun every once in a while in a safe way then I wouldn't have to worry. But you've been high for weeks and nearly got yourselves killed. Please at least make sure the TARDIS is parked if you're gonna do that! All I'm saying is you need to set the example. Don't be high around Alex, at least not when she's this young and not until you're sure she fully understands things. I don't want her messing with any substances, but if she does I want her to be safe about it."

"I've seen you drink in front of her-" Ginger protested, indignant.

"It was a party atmosphere, I drank as responsibly as possible," he replied. "Plus, she's English. The drinking culture here is pervasive. We had a talk about it when she was much younger so she'd understand the risks involved and know she didn't have to drink if she didn't want to. I only drink in front of her in a public setting. I think she's equipped to make safe decisions about that. Kind of like how I gave her talks about healthy sexuality already so she'd be equipped to deal with that, but don't go around hooking up when I know she's nearby. We set an example in front of her that maybe we don't follow when we're alone, but she doesn't get to see that. She gets an ideal so that she can make better choices than us."

"That actually...makes a lot of sense," Ginger said. "This is exactly why I'd be a terrible parent. This won't happen again."

"I know. I'm glad you two are alright. And you seem to be coming down so if you can clean yourselves up a bit then you can join us for food. I'm sure you're both starving."

...

Jack and Alex walked to the restaurant.

"So what do you think that was about?" she asked.

"Who knows?" he said.

Alex spotted someone familiar up ahead. "Kira?"

Kira turned around and spotted them. "Alex?"

They ran up to greet her. "What are you _doing _here?" Alex demanded.

"I got this card," Kira said, holding up a Valentine like the ones they'd gotten. "It was cryptic, but it told me where to go. I thought it was from you?"

"No, definitely not," said Alex. "But if you were invited too, I think you should come along."

"Where are you going?" asked Kira.

"Lunch with Alex's old childhood crush," Jack teased.

"What?" asked Kira.

"It's not like that," Alex said. "Gwen's way older."

"A total MILF," said Jack.

"Stop _saying _that..."

They ran into Gwen just as she was about to enter the restaurant.

"Jack!" Gwen said, grinning from ear to ear as she hugged him by way of greeting. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"I'll always make time for you, Gwen," he said, opening the door. "Gwen, you remember my niece, Alex?"

"Oh of course I do, Jack!" Gwen said, pleasantly surprised to see her. "And my, how you've grown! You were such a little thing last time I saw you, and now look at you! Quite the young woman!"

Alex blushed appreciatively and Kira just smirked and said under her breath: "Yeah. _Definitely _a MILF."

"How old were you last time I saw you?" Gwen asked. "Must've been...6 or 7 years ago? No more than 8. I can't get over how tall you are now!"

Alex was still blushing. "Yeah, I think I was maybe 10 or 11 at the time...That sounds about right."

"And who's this?" Gwen asked, noticing Kira standing there.

"Oh, uh, this is my girlfriend Kira."

"Girlfriend." Now it was Gwen's turn to smirk and nod as she and Jack took their seats. "Rhys owes me 20 quid for that one."

"What? Why?" asked Jack.

"I said to him once when Alex was but a little thing that Alex was gonna come out as gay. I mean we all had it pegged over in Torchwood, didn't we? We just knew. I remember saying to Rhys, 'That child may not be blood related to Jack, but the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' Well, anyway, here we are! I'm pleased to meet you, Kira. And not just because you helped me win an old bet against my husband."

"I like her," Kira said, infinitely amused at Alex's discomfort. "Tell me more. What was Alex like when she was little?"

"Ah, well," Gwen said. "Let's go inside, shall we, and I'll tell you all about it?"

...

"It was the way she used to follow me around, you know," Gwen explained as they settled into their seats. "She was such a small, wild thing. Couldn't get a comb through her hair - and not just because she wouldn't hold still long enough and would run away if you so much as proposed the idea. And she just _begged _Jack to let her go on stakeout with me. Used to say she wanted to be a cop like me when she grew up. Always hanging around lock-up and getting to know procedures. And then one day she just started dressing like me and we all knew. Poor thing. What was it that Ianto used to say about it?"

Jack's voice was colored with a tinge of sadness when he answered. "He used to say she had a bit of a kiddie crush on you."

"Yeah," Gwen breathed, nostalgic in the worst way. "Yeah that was it. A kiddie crush." Her eyes got misty all of a sudden. "I remember this one day - I don't know where you were, Jack - but Alex had been tagging along and I was a bit exhausted." She looked directly at Alex. "You had so much energy that day, so I pawned you off on Tosh and Owen to watch you for a bit. And I was sitting back sipping a coffee, watching how excited you were watching them do their jobs...And Ianto comes up to me, and he says: 'Gwen, that girl is gonna look back on this time one day and realize you were her first crush.' We all knew. I think Ianto felt it specially, though. Since he didn't come out til later, you know. Not at all like Jack who was never in to begin with."

"Oh I was in-" Jack started.

"Do _not _make that joke, or I'll kill you," Alex grumbled.

The doors to the restaurant opened and Jack stood up. "I hope you don't mind, Gwen. We ran into some friends on the way here. We asked them to join."

"Sure, no problem," Gwen said.

"Gwen, you remember-"

"The Doctor." Gwen was surprised, and got to her feet at the sight of him. "Yes, of course I remember. It's an honor to finally meet you in person."

"Oh right," the Doctor said. "Gwen Cooper, was it? We met through the Sub-Wave Network. From an old Cardiff family, right?"

"That's right," Gwen said, surprised he remembered after so long.

"This is my friend, Ginger," the Doctor said.

Ginger was looking Gwen up and down. Apart from Ginger's X-Files t-shirt, the two were dressed nearly identically. Black jeans, black shoes, black leather jacket. "Now I get it," Ginger said, impressed.

"Now," Jack said, as they all took their seats. "Where were we?"

"I think we were embarrassing Alex," Kira said.

"Well don't stop on our account!" Ginger said. "Absolutely carry on with that one."

"This is all your fault," Alex teased Jack in an attempt to steer the conversation. "Hanging around you all the time as a kid definitely corrupted me. You made Ianto gay and then you passed the problem down to me."

"Hey! This wasn't all on us," Jack protested, amused. "There wasn't a single member of Torchwood Three that was totally 100% straight."

She raised her eyebrows. "You're kidding."

"Wouldn't joke about something that serious," Jack said. "You know Gwen kissed a girl before."

It was Ginger's turn to raise her eyebrows as she looked over Gwen again. "Is that so?"

"That was one time!" Gwen protested. "It was literally my first day on the job, I didn't know what I was doing-"

"You see?" Jack said. "First day on the job. She wasted no time."

"She was an alien! Seduced me with pheromones!"

"An alien?" Ginger asked. "Impressive. Girl's got game. I'd never consider an Earthling, but I might make an exception for an alien."

The Doctor looked at her sharply. "You would?"

"Not you," she said quickly.

"You should see my scoreboard," Jack said.

"I'd really rather not." Ginger rolled her eyes.

"Besides," Gwen said. "If you want to talk about someone getting it on with alien women, I'm the least impressive. We only snogged that once. Tosh actually slept with hers."

"Tosh did _what?" _Alex asked.

"Oh yeah, it was a whole thing," Jack said.

"I didn't know she had it in her." It was Alex's turn to be mildly impressed. "She was always so quiet, you know? You think you know a person! What was going on in that Hub?"

"You were so little," Jack said. "I know we didn't really tone it down much, but we did a little. There's a lot we got up to that you have absolutely no idea about."

"Yeah those were the good old days, weren't they?" Gwen said, nostalgically.

There was a moment where Jack, Gwen, and Alex all were lost in thought.

"I was very sorry to hear about your friends," the Doctor said. "Jack didn't say what happened but...I heard something did."

"Thank you," Gwen said. "So what is it? What brings you to Cardiff?"

"We got these Valentines," explained Jack. "Me, Alex, and Kira. The Doctor and Ginger didn't get any, but ours told us they'd be here."

"I'll admit to being curious," Ginger said.

"I'm more than curious," said Alex. "It's like a mission, yeah? Like a real one?"

"Alex Mitchell finally gets to go on the mission," Gwen said, shaking her head. "It's a big day."

...

They finally said goodbye to Gwen and began walking to the coffee shop where they were to meet this mysterious person. Ginger seemed to be in a curiously good mood.

"Ginger, you okay?" Alex asked.

"Mhm," she giggled. "Why?"

"Because you seem a little...giggly," Alex said. "Which isn't you."

Jack hung back with the Doctor and Ginger. "You didn't?" he said in a fervent whisper.

"Hm?" Ginger said. "_No_. I just feel...really good right now? For no reason? It started as soon as I got out of the TARDIS. I usually have a headache when I get out of the TARDIS on Earth, but there isn't one here. I feel really good. I can't explain it."

The Doctor frowned. "That's odd."

"You're odd," she laughed.

"I'm beginning to get a bit worried too," said the Doctor.

"Why worried, don't be worried, so serious Doctor..."

Alex turned around. "Why'd you stop walking? We're gonna be late!"

"Late, late!" Ginger exclaimed, bounding forward. "For a very important..." She looked at the Doctor and burst into laughter. "Well not that. Never that." She turned away and sprinted to keep up with Alex and Kira.

...

They arrived at the cafe several minutes before 3.

"Right on time," said a plump middle-aged Welshman with curly blonde hair that turned pink at the ends. He smoothed down his pastel pink suit. "You're going to say that you're early, but that's when you were expected. Don't be alarmed, it's not precognition - though it is, in a sense. It's simply a recognition of your likely patterns. You are so very far off from your expected path, but your patterns remain the same. You are you, at the end of the day and after all." He gestured broadly at a table. "Please, take a seat."

Ginger took a seat immediately, surprising the rest of the group with how easily she acquiesced. Alex felt she had to step in and be suspicious on her behalf. 

"I'd rather not, until I know who you are," she said, crossing her arms.

"Of course, Alex Mitchell immediately imitates the strong female figures in her life," the man said. "Quite right, quite right, I'd expect nothing less from a Torchwood agent."

"A Torchwood agent?" Jack repeated. "She's not a Torchwood agent."

"Not yet," said the man.

"Torchwood closed down," Jack said.

"It could be reopened," the man said vaguely. "Or maybe it won't be. I shouldn't make presumptions based on past data. After all, this is all so different. And you're so much less bitter than I'm used to."

"You sent us the cards?" Alex demanded. "You're 'C'?"

He winced. "Please don't call me that. I simply knew if I put my real name on a card, you wouldn't take it seriously."

"And your real name is?"

"Why, Cupid, of course."

Ginger laughed out loud at this information. "Cupid? That explains the cheap rhymes-"

"It wounds me that you think my rhymes are cheap, Ginger," Cupid said. "I would never charge." He looked to the others. "Now if we could sit? Please, sit?"

They all took seats and Cupid followed suit.

"You're really Cupid?" asked Jack. "I sort of assumed that was a myth."

"Which is how I like it," Cupid admitted. "If people know you're real, they want all sorts of things from you."

"I feel that," Ginger said, seriously. "I'd much rather be a cryptid, to be honest."

"But you don't really shoot people?" the Doctor asked. 

"With arrows?" Cupid inquired genially. "I started that rumor. Thought they'd take that as a deterrent. Unfortunately, people interpreted that to mean that shooting people was how I spread the love...which is horribly violent and I absolutely abhor it."

Ginger laughed. "Make love, not war."

The Doctor stared at her for a moment before turning to Cupid. "Alright, what have you done to her?"

"Her?" Cupid replied, gazing at her fondly. "I've done nothing to her. It's Cardiff. It has this affect."

"No it doesn't," Jack said. "I lived here for years-"

"It doesn't have this affect on you," Cupid said. "There is a very small population in this universe that is affected differently by rift energy. Ginger happens to be sensitive to it in a way you are not."

"Rift energy?" the Doctor repeated. "That's ridiculous-"

"Yes, but it's also true."

"How?"

Cupid smiled mysteriously. "It's not the time for answers. At least not about Ginger. She's still far too young."

"Oi!" Ginger said, snapping her eyes to him. "I'm not young! I'm a full grown adult person thing!"

"Far too young," Cupid repeated. "Trust me."

Ginger shrugged. "Okay."

The Doctor was shocked and annoyed that she accepted that so easily. "You must be doing something to her!"

"Nothing, my dear boy," Cupid insisted. "I understand that suspicion keeps you alive, so I'll forgive you for that. But there is no cause to be suspicious of me." He focused on Ginger. "You're feeling alright? Not too overwhelmed?"

"I like it here," she replied happily. "It's warm."

"It's freezing," Alex said, skeptically.

"Warm," Ginger insisted. "I like it. We should stay."

"So what's all this for?" asked Alex. "Why are we all here?"

"True love, of course," said Cupid. "In one form or another. What may be and what never can."

They all waited for Ginger to refute this sentimentality but all she said was: "Tea. Isn't there supposed to be tea?"

"Quite right," he replied with a smile. "You'll all stay overnight, of course."

"What?" asked Alex, alarmed by the possibility. "Why?"

"The TARDIS needs 24 hours to recharge," said Cupid. "This tea shop has a nice little apartment over it with a few available rooms. It's free, of course. I'd never subject you to capitalism."

"Yeah!" Ginger said. "Screw capitalism!"

"I think it might be a good idea for Ginger to sleep it off," said Kira.

"She'll even out once she gets used to rift energy," Cupid said. "She's never had so much of it at once before. Give her a few hours."

"You know an awful lot about this," the Doctor said.

"All in good time, Doctor," Cupid replied. "And it could be a good time, this time. Let's reconvene in my apartment, I'll have our tea brought up while we discuss the mission."

...

Ginger drank her tea and began to mellow out.

"Long story short," said Cupid. "I recently gave love advice to a young Earth girl. She misinterpreted it and now she's in a cult. I need you to extract her."

"Cool, a cult extraction!" said Kira.

"How do we do that?" said Alex.

"It's a romance cult-" said Cupid.

"Excuse me?" Jack said.

"Not a sex cult," said Cupid. "I wouldn't involve the teenagers in a sex cult. Think of this place as sort of a new age hippie commune, minus the drugs. You go there with a significant other in order to detox from the stress of the world and be complete. The problem is that once in there, they become isolated from the rest of the world. It's never good for two people to be the only people in the world who are there for each other. That's where codependency forms. So you need to go in there and try to convince these people to leave. There was a recent vacancy that just opened in their jazz band, so someone can get in as their singer. I thought Jack could do that. Then Alex and Kira could go undercover as a couple and Ginger and the Doctor could go undercover as another-"

"What?" Ginger said, a little too loudly. "Oh no no no. I'm not doing the fake dating thing. I've read fanfiction, I know how that ends up."

"You read fanfiction?" the Doctor asked, amused.

"This isn't Arcadia and the two of us aren't Mulder and Scully," Ginger said, firmly. "No, I'll be the jazz singer. The Doctor and Jack can be the couple."

"What?" Now it was the Doctor's turn to be mildly alarmed. "Why us?"

"Because if the only other way in is to go as a couple, you two can do that," Ginger explained. "I'd rather be the singer. You got a problem with that?"

"No problem at all," Jack smirked.

"Knowing Ginger, she'll need a good disguise," said Cupid.

"Knowing Ginger?" Ginger repeated, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "You don't know me."

"I know you better than you do," Cupid replied. "I've got some nice wigs you could have..."

Ginger had to admit that she was intrigued by this possibility. "Fine. I do love a costume." She turned to Jack. "Isn't this the part of the montage where you Queer Eye me?"

Jack laughed. "Is that what you want?"

"Not particularly," she admitted, grinning.

The Doctor couldn't explain what it was about watching the two of them interact that was annoying him so much.

"Can't we get this over with?" he asked, briskly.

Ginger was taken aback by his tone. "I want to get this over with as much as you do, but what's with the tone?"

"He gets uncomfortable not being able to just skip the boring parts," Jack teased.

"I'm not uncomfortable!" he bristled.

"Well that's settled then," Cupid said. "Let's start getting you ready for the work ahead..."

...

They spent some time crafting their disguises and Cupid managed to catch some time alone with Ginger, who was still a little fuzzy on account of the rift energy.

"Feeling alright, my dear?" he asked gently. "I could grab you some chocolates if the Rift Energy has you feeling a bit peckish."

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Don't you know, my dear?" asked Cupid.

She stared at him as if trying to make him make sense. "I feel as if I know you. Do I know you? I trust you as if I know you, but I don't trust anyone I know so that's weird."

"You don't trust the Doctor?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're not the Doctor."

"How do you know?" he asked in a knowing way.

"Because I'd know if you were the Doctor. I just would. I'd know him anywhere."

"Yes you would," said Cupid. "Even with another face, you'd know him immediately. So no, I'm not him."

"But I know you?" 

"Does anyone know anyone?"

She thought about this. "No, I suppose not," she answered.

He picked up the slightest edge in her tone. "Anything you'd like to talk about? Sorry, poor choice of words - if I give you the option to talk about what you'd _like _to talk about, we'll be here all day talking about words that started out as metaphors before the original meaning was lost to the ages. As _riveting _as that would be, I think there are more pressing matters, don't you?" 

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, irritation evident in her mannerisms. "There isn't anything to talk about."

"Maybe not to me..." he began tentatively. "But maybe...you should talk to _him_." He got the full force of her glare, but had been expecting that so only slightly recoiled. "Honesty and communication, they're very important characteristics, don't you think? He might understand more than you think, if you'd give him a chance. Just food for thought."

He began walking away when she was seized with the inexplicable urge to ask him a question. "Cupid?" He turned back to face her and she looked quickly down at her hands, which were fidgeting like mad. "Do you...think this is a bad idea? Singing in front of people?"

Cupid's eyes were full of curiosity when he answered. "This wouldn't be stage fright? Not coming from the girl who got all those awards?"

"How do you know about those?" she demanded.

"It's not stage fright," the Doctor said, alerting them to his presence. Of course he hadn't really let Ginger out of his sight, not with this stranger around. "This is the same look you got on your face the first time we met. You were on stage singing that Devil Doll song and when you saw me you were terrified someone was recording you."

Jack entered just in time to hear the end of this statement. "Why? We've heard you sing! You should be proud with a voice like that! Even Freddie Mercury said you were good!"

"It's not like that. I don't really care what people say about me," she said, dismissively. "I wasn't really worried that night about being made fun of, whatever I said about it at the time. I didn't mind singing in front of you or Freddie because there was no way it could get back to me. But...This is 2016. The year I'd be in if I'd stayed. I suppose I don't have to face the consequences of it if I don't want to, but...I can't risk being recognized. It could go badly if I get recorded."

"Why?" Jack asked, concerned. "What are you hiding from?"

She looked as if she was about to say something before changing her mind. "We don't have time for that." She noticed Cupid regarding her with interest. "I just don't know if it's a good idea."

"That's fine," Jack said. "I can be the singer. You can take my spot and be the Doctor's fake girlfriend."

"On second thought," she said, sharply. "I'll take my chances with the singing."

"Have you all picked your rooms for the night?" asked Cupid.

"I'm just going to sleep on the TARDIS," the Doctor said. "Got some maintenance to do there."

"There's not much room there right now, is there?" Alex asked.

"I've still got a hammock under the engine, but I don't think I'm going to use it. I was thinking Ginger would instead. She'd be too bored with TARDIS maintenance."

"Yeah, I would," Ginger said. "Which is why I'm staying here. I don't turn down a free room."

"Yes you do-" the Doctor protested.

"Well I'm not this time," she said, firmly. "There's a TV in mine!" 

He couldn't figure out why she was being so weird. "Maybe I should stay, then." He didn't like leaving them all alone with the stranger. 

"No," Ginger said. "You get the TARDIS flying so we can get out of here as soon as possible, alright? No arguing." She really didn't want to be alone with him.

He supposed Jack was still with them, and that was the only reason he agreed. "Hey, listen," he said, pulling her aside. "Why don't we step outside? I'd like to finish the conversation from before. It was kind of important."

"Whatever you had to say, it can wait," she said. "I need to pick a persona."

"She need at least 12 hours to properly create a persona," Cupid said with something very like fondness. "She really commits to a character."

...

Alex and Kira had separate beds, but they were big enough that the two of them could fit easily on Alex's bed. They were lying there side by side, staring at the ceiling.

"I just don't know," Kira was sighing. "When I was in Japan over the holiday, Gran didn't look like she'd make it much longer. I don't really like being this far away if something happens, but I don't think I was much use there anyway. I feel so guilty. I let people here make me feel so uncomfortable that I barely speak any Japanese now. I don't have a real tangible link to my cultural heritage and...I'm starting to think that's maybe not such a good thing. I was always so proud, you know? That I wasn't a stereotype. But now...I think maybe I was so preoccupied with being an individual that I have no idea who I am."

"I can sort of relate to that," Alex admitted.

Kira turned onto her side to look at her. "You can?"

"Not quite to that same degree," Alex assured her. "I mean, I'm English so there's not really much of a cultural heritage I needed to be connected to." She rolled her eyes, having a sudden thought. "Though if Ginger caught me saying that, she'd remind me that my cultural heritage is one of imperialism and bloodshed."

"Yeah, that sounds like something she'd say."

"I guess it's not really like I'm trying to be connected to a lineage or anything. Whatever roots I may have had, I'm the last one. You have so much family in so many places but...As far as blood goes, unless I choose to have children the line stops with me. But I understand what it feels like to have no real concept of who you are. My parents died when I was too young to remember them except through whatever Jack can show me. And he's great, he does the best he can, but..." She sighed. "Yeah, I guess it's true that Torchwood was no place for a kid. But I was born into this life. After my parents died, I got put in my first foster home, not too far from where we are right now. And he'd come by a lot and visit. Sometimes he'd let me drop by the Hub, which was _totally _a security breach but everyone went along with it. It was only on slow days and I was never allowed out of sight of the grownups. I'd mostly hang out with Tosh and Owen. Well, actually, mostly Tosh."

"Tosh is the one who slept with an alien, right?"

Alex laughed. "Yeah, apparently! She was the technical expert. You would've liked her. Actually, you always reminded me a lot of her. Not because you're both Japanese!" She added quickly. "Just...in the way you are. She was very smart, very level-headed. If I had a problem, she was always the one who had the answer."

"And what was Owen like?"

"He was...the opposite. He was the medic. Very loud, confident, funny. Always made me laugh." She smiled fondly.

"You never talk about any of this."

"It's too hard, normally," she admitted. "Especially for Jack. I mainly try to avoid mentioning Ianto."

"Who was Ianto?"

"He was quiet, always bringing me tea and snacks. I always said Tosh was like the mum I never had but maybe that was Ianto. Always mothering me. In the beginning he didn't have much responsibility at the Hub, so he'd sit and play video games with me. Ianto taught me how to tie my shoes, helped me with homework unless it was too hard because then it was Tosh's job. He was the best. No wonder Jack was so in love with him."

"And how did the hottie fit into all that?"

"Who? Gwen? She came later. Kind of changed everything for everyone. But anyway, I had a point. I was saying how I get how it feels to not really know where you fit into things. It kind of comes with the territory of being a foster kid. You can't really get attached to anything. When I was 10, a family in London was wanting to adopt me. I didn't want to go. I mean I did, I wanted a family of course. But I really really didn't want to leave Cardiff. I was happy with my life and with Torchwood and our little family. So I said I didn't want to go. But then Jack sat me down and told me I had to. It was too dangerous for me to keep being involved here. He said I needed to try to be a regular kid. So I went to London. Then next thing I knew, Tosh and Owen were dead. Nobody ever told me why until recently. Then soon after that, my adoptive family were killed by Daleks."

"I didn't know that."

"I don't talk about it much," she said. "That's how I got those scars on my feet. Running through the streets after it happened. No shoes on. Now I keep shoes by my bed just in case."

"That's so horrible."

"I thought for sure Jack would take me back to Cardiff after that. He'd been trying to keep me safe, but clearly it wasn't any safer out here. But he insisted I stay in London with a new foster family. And next thing I heard, Ianto was dead too. And Jack fucked off to outer space for a while - I didn't hear from him for ages after that. And then Torchwood was gone. But going through that, I stopped being a kid who expected anything from anyone. I've got to take care of myself. But I just look back on that time at the Hub...that was the last time I really felt like me. Like I had a place where I fit. And losing all of that the way I did...I just got so untethered from any person I recognized. My roots were at Torchwood, learning about cool aliens. I expected to grow up and join Torchwood myself one day. But then I couldn't so I'm not sure who I'm supposed to be."

Kira reached over and kissed her.

"What was that for?" Alex asked breathlessly.

"I don't know," Kira admitted. "I just wanted to do that, so I did." She kissed her again, and Alex melted into it.

"You know," Kira said, breaking away from her. "It's nearly Valentine's Day. We're in Wales, in a room all to ourselves. We can do anything we want."

Alex's heart started beating very fast. "Yes, we could." They kissed again.

"Wait wait wait," Alex said, pulling away. "Maybe we shouldn't."

"Why?"

"Because everyone else is in the other room."

Kira looked at her kindly. "And that's all that this is about? It's not, I don't know...That you don't actually want to be around me?"

"What?" Alex asked, finding that notion absurd. "Don't be ridiculous. There's nowhere else I'd rather be!"

"So what is it, then? Are you nervous? Because we don't have to do anything you're not ready for. You don't have to be self-conscious."

Alex looked as if she wanted to say something, but changed her mind. "Actually, you know what? I left something on the TARDIS when we were there earlier. I should go get it."

She stood up and Kira got up too. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, no, no, that's fine, I've got it," Alex said. "You rest. We've got to go undercover tomorrow."

Kira was utterly confused. "Alright," she said. "Just be careful out there."

"Don't worry," she said. "I've got pepper spray."

"Really?" Kira was surprised. "I thought pepper spray was illegal for civilian use."

"It is," Alex said. "Ginger gave me some."

Kira nodded, a slow grin spreading over her face. "You know, it's kind of hot when you go around breaking the rules."

"Yeah, well, I'm a rebel," she grinned. "I'm a Londoner. Punk rock is my birthright."

...

"Doc?" Alex asked, opening the TARDIS doors. "You in here?"

The Doctor was startled by her sudden appearance. "Alex? What are you doing here?"

The room was still in darkness, lit only by a single monitor the Doctor was looking at. She crossed the room. "Needed some air. Wanted to check on you. So are you gonna tell me what happened in here or what?"

"Ah, well, it's not a big deal," the Doctor said. "We just ran out of fuel, so to speak. But Ginger helped me steer her back onto the Rift, so she's charging up nicely. She'll be back to normal in no time."

"What are you doing in here?" she asked, coming around to look at the monitor.

"Deleting some old rooms taking up space in the Archive," he said. "See, all I do is watch them come up on the monitor and choose to approve them for reconstruction when the TARDIS reboots or permanently delete them." The file for the kitchen came up and he pressed 'approve'. "Do you want to talk about why you're in here instead of in your room with your girlfriend?"

She scoffed. "No! I just needed some air."

"So you've said." He'd just approved another room when a new file popped up and he paused, hearts sinking into the pit of his stomach.

Alex caught the look on his face and peered round at the screen. She saw this one was marked 'Rose's Room'.

She bit her lip, trying to think of how to phrase this. "Doc, how are you doing?"

"Hm? Oh I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Really? Because you don't seem fine."

"It's just this one room," he admitted. "I haven't quite been able to bring myself to make a decision about it."

"Why not?" she asked. "You know it's alright. You don't have to make a decision about it now. You can just keep it archived, right?"

"I suppose I could," he said. "But that's also a decision, right? It's been ages now, I should be able to move forward, right? Move on?"

"It's not silly to want to hold on to hope."

"That's the thing, though, I'm not holding onto hope. I know she can't come back. So I don't know why I keep around this...shrine to her. I don't even go in there, the door just stays shut...But I'm doing it again. I'm putting all this on you, exactly like I said I wasn't going to. You're a teenager, and this isn't fair to you."

"I don't mind."

"I know. But that doesn't make it right. We should talk about your problem. Why are you avoiding being on your own with Kira? I know you too well, Alex Mitchell, I know when you're avoiding something."

She sighed. "I'm not avoiding anything. In fact, to prove I'm not avoiding anything, I'm going to go back to my room now!" She started walking towards the TARDIS doors.

"That's just avoiding the conversation!" he called after her.

...

They all arranged to meet up at the hotel the following morning.

"Are we ready to go?" the Doctor asked, when he arrived.

"Just about," Jack said. "Ginger isn't ready yet."

"I'm building a character," Ginger called from the bathroom. 

"You can't rush her when she's building a character," Cupid said, absently. "Give her time."

"Thank you," Ginger said.

"And how are my two favorite girls?" the Doctor asked Kira and Alex.

Alex rolled her eyes. "We're fine. Actually pretty excited to get on with the mission."

"It's not cutting into your Valentine's plans, is it?"

"Ugh, we're not caught up in it being Valentines, are we?" Ginger asked. "It's a total sham holiday!"

"I always thought it was kinda sweet," the Doctor protested. "I like how humans want to celebrate love."

Ginger scoffed. "Okay, you clearly don't spend enough time around humans."

"Is this where you ruin it like you did with Thanksgiving?" asked Alex.

She groaned. "Look. Valentines is toxic. And every time I try to say that, people dismiss me like I'm 'bitter because I'm single'. Which isn't it. I like being on my own. It's less icky. But the thing about Valentines is it builds itself up to an impossible expectation and then brings everyone down. Like Christmas."

"Also like Christmas, it's entirely manufactured by capitalism," Cupid added. "Ooooh, buy this heart shaped chocolate for an insane mark-up!"

Ginger nodded. "Like I'm some kind of chump. And not just that, but it sets insane expectations for women and men. For women it's like 'he can treat you rotten every other day of the year as long as he buys you off for sex on this one day'. For guys it's like 'spend a lot of money to prove yourself otherwise you don't care at all, also you can buy her off for sex'. It's toxic."

"Never thought of it that way," Jack admitted.

"You've just gotta think outside the box sometimes. Realize what they're selling you, then don't buy." 

"Surprised you're not a fan of the holiday, Cupid," said Jack. "I expected this to be your day, so to speak."

Cupid made a face. "It was in the beginning. I thought it was sweet. But as I got older, I began to recognize certain ways that the holiday was used and, well...I do agree with Ginger. Love isn't something you can buy off once a year."

Ginger couldn't explain why she felt so pleased that he agreed with her. "You got our ids?" she asked.

"Right here," Cupid replied. "Surprised you didn't offer to make them yourself."

"You know how to make fake IDs?" asked Kira.

"She learned when she was a child," said Cupid. 

"How do you...Never mind," Ginger said. "I didn't offer because I didn't have the right materials on hand. Same reason why Doc didn't make more psychic paper for everyone."

She exited the bathroom in a red cocktail dress and a long black bombshell wig. Her eyes were darkened with a smattering of black makeup and her lips were bright red. She'd ditched her glasses. "I still don't really like contacts, but these will do."

She looked like a totally different person, so everyone had to take a moment to adjust. "Wow," Alex said. "You look..."

"Like a jazz singer?" she grinned, in a disarming way that reminded everyone a bit of Jack. She then ditched the Scottish accent to put on an old-timey American accent. "Who's got my ID?" Cupid held it out for her and she took it. "Thanks, doll. Stella Dickinson, at nobody's service. Except the Devil's, of course."

"I know you said you're an actor," Jack said. "But it's kind of spooky how far you've disappeared into this role."

"I practiced all last night," she said, smoothly.

She and Cupid both spoke at once. "Half of building a character is picking a good costume, the rest will follow."

Cupid moved on before she could snap at him. "I'm undercover as a relationship counselor, so I leave now. You guys follow in an hour."

...

They followed just as directed and walked toward the compound in a tight group. The Doctor kept trying not to look at Ginger, but found his eyes irresistibly drawn to her. Her black wig looked so natural, and the curve of the dress was so becoming to her. She disappeared into the role so effectively that she even walked differently - this character had a more sure, fluid gait and swung her hips a bit more. There was a level of confidence in every step that was utterly foreign to the real Ginger, who usually walked in a faster, more clipped manner, arms stiffly crossed in front of her or at her sides. She was so loose and fluid. He hardly knew her.

"Take a picture," Ginger-as-Stella said, her mouth curving into a smirk that was very reminiscent of Jack's. "It'll last longer."

"I'm - I'm, I wasn't," the Doctor spluttered.

"I guess this is where I leave you," Ginger said. Ginger had instructions to proceed to the service entrance for an audition. "For God's sake, loosen up, Doctor! You look so stiff!"

"Good note," he mumbled, sarcastically.

"Come on, you're supposed to be part of a couple," she teased. "At least hold Jack's hand. Really _sell _the act."

"I can do one better than that," Jack said, putting his arms round the Doctor's waist.

"Better," Ginger smiled at him. "Do _try _to look like you're enjoying yourself, Doctor." And with that, she went off towards her entrance.

"She's the strangest person," Kira said, shaking her head.

They all moved towards the front doors.

"Names?" the security guard asked.

"John and Jack Smith," Jack said, confidently. "And this is our daughter, Sam, and her girlfriend, Lucy."

The man peered at them. "You're on the list," he said, as if he doubted this. "Sam and Lucy, you can go on in."

"Is there a problem?" the Doctor asked.

"I just don't know that you look like a real couple," the guard said. "_He _looks like he could be a cop and you look like you could be a reporter."

"Why?" Jack teased. "You got something to hide?"

"This is meant to be a healing space for our patrons. We can't have suspicious energy harshing the vibe."

Jack made a snap decision. "Is _this _harshing up your vibe?" He kissed the Doctor.

The man considered this. "Alright, you can go in."

"That was almost too easy," Jack said, once they were safely inside.

"Speak for yourself," the Doctor said.

"What? Wasn't it good for you too? Am I off my game?"

He rolled his eyes. "Nah, you still got it. But we're not doing that again. There's no part of the contract that says to make out as a distraction every time we're backed into a corner."

"You say that now..."

...

_"You give me fever..._

_When you kiss me,_

_Fever when you hold me tight,_

_Fever..._

_In the morning,_

_Fever all through the night!"_

Ginger wrapped up her audition to a rather indifferent audience of musicians.

"She'll do," a brunette said, gruffly.

"She's better than the last singer we had, at any rate," a man with black curly hair said.

"Can you play piano?" the brunette asked.

"Not especially well," Ginger answered.

"That's a shame," the brunette said. "I mean, we'll still give you the gig. We just lost our pianist too so it would've been good to fill his seat."

"What's with all the vacancies?" Ginger asked. "What happened to the other band members?"

"They're gone," was the only cryptic answer she'd get.

"What did you say your name was again?" the brunette asked.

"Stella," Ginger replied.

"Right," the man with the curly hair said. "You've got the gig. We've got an hour til we go on, so we're gonna warm up in 30. Feel free to relax until then."

Ginger took that opportunity to poke around. She ran into Cupid.

"Well that worked out well enough-" she said.

"Of course it did," he waved this off. "You've never not nailed an audition."

"That's not true," she frowned. "I've had auditions where I didn't get the part I wanted."

"There were reasons for that," he replied. "But none of them had to do with your performance." He reached in his pocket and removed a small box of chocolates. "I saved you the strawberries and the oranges. I know they're your favorite."

"Who _are _you?" she demanded. 

"I'm Cupid, my dear, now why don't we sit so we can chat? You needn't be so squirlish, my dear, I'm sure you've got plenty of reasons, but I assure you there is no reason to be so suspicious."

She sighed. "Listen, I have to go rehearse."

"What a lovely word," he said. "You do remember what it means, I suppose? In the original romantic language of its origin?"

"I assume you mean the French?" she asked.

"Quite," he appeared satisfied.

"Er..." she reached back into her basic grasp of etymology.

He smiled. "You're off your game today, I see. No matter. In the strictest sense, I suppose it means to go over something over and over again. Doesn't your life feel a bit like a rehearsal sometimes? When are you going to raise the curtains on your life?" She felt very shaken all of a sudden and Cupid could see that. "You should go rehearse, dear. We'll pick this up later."

...

"This whole undercover thing is actually pretty cool," Kira said. "I knew it would be, but it's all secretive and stuff, you know?"

Alex smiled, finding this statement oddly cute. "Yeah it is, all secretive and stuff. I was never allowed to go on the missions as a kid, you know, so it's actually a dream being allowed along now."

They were poking around trying to find something incriminating. The Doctor and Jack had gone in an opposite direction - which the Doctor hadn't been happy about, but Kira had convinced them that splitting up would cover more ground. And there was a lot of ground to cover. There were workshops and spas and little recreational rooms of every sort around every corner.

"You know we've likely got some time," Kira said, taking her by the elbow and playfully maneuvering Alex so that her back was against the wall.

"What are you doing?" Alex giggled, though she had a sort of idea.

"Killing it," she said, kissing Alex. They were broken up by the sound of footsteps.

"Oh don't stop on my account, girls," Cupid said, smiling graciously. "I was simply passing through. Wouldn't want to break up young love. Some of us never get to have that."

"You didn't really give us instructions," Alex said. "What are we supposed to be looking for?"

"The girl's name is Lily," said Cupid. "Find her and get her out. I'll handle the rest." He began walking past them before thinking better and turning to say one more thing. "You know, girls, far be it from me to say anything to spoil this because one should really enjoy all their moments while they last...but you are so very complementary, the pair of you. The shame of it is that the mixing of your two auras would just create grey..." He seemed to have more on his mind, but thought better of it. "Never mind that now. The two of you are coming to my seminar, yes? I think you could benefit..."

"You're doing a seminar?" Kira asked.

"Yes of course," Cupid said. "I have an obligation to help!"

...

"An obligation to help?" the Doctor said incredulously. "I'm still not entirely sure what I think about this guy." He turned away from Alex. "How about you, Ginger? Have you made up your mind?"

She thought about it for a moment. "I dunno, honestly. There is something...familiar about him." She had a sudden thought. "But not in the original Latin connotation, of course. Not from _familia _like 'family'." She grumbled to herself, accidentally breaking character by crossing her arms and slipping back into her Scottish accent. "I'm _not _off my game, I know words! Besides, he doesn't know what kind of game I run! He doesn't know me!"

"Alright?" Kira said, looking as puzzled as the others felt.

Ginger realized that she'd broken character and took a moment to loosen her posture before continuing in character again. "I'm just saying, he's hard for me to pin down."

"Think we ought to go to his seminar?" Alex asked.

The Doctor nodded. "I think it'll be most informative."

"I just want to know what he meant by all that talk about colors," Kira said. "I mean talk about vague and cryptic!"

"He _is _that, isn't he?" Ginger chimed in.

...

When they arrived for the seminar, they found all the cushy armchairs in the room arranged in a circle with small circular tables in between each one.

"Welcome, my darlings, welcome," Cupid said, stepping into the center of the circle. "I'm glad you could all join me for tea." Servers began coming round with silver trays. "Please sit and partake in the assortment of chocolate and orange scones, as well as strawberry tea. Normally in the spirit of the holiday, the tea would be more thematic but...I thought it best to leave certain flowers to wilt out of the frame of memory today. Yes indeed." He seemed momentarily perturbed by something before smiling once again. He took a teacup from a server and settled in a seat across the circle from where the others were sitting. At that moment, Ginger walked in.

Cupid smiled. "Ah! It's Stella today, is it? Lovely of you to join us, my dear, just lovely."

"Got turned around," she said. "Wasn't planning on sticking around. This thing is for couples, I'm just staff."

"My dear, my dear, you could benefit more than anyone," he indicated an empty seat next to the Doctor. "And you're always so much more than _just _staff. Why don't you take a seat, my dear?"

She hesitated, clearly nervous. "I prefer to stand."

"Nonsense, these chairs are a dream," he smiled. "And you simply _must _sample the tea."

She cast her eyes about helplessly for a moment. She saw another open seat next to Kira. "Alright then," she said, sinking into that one instead. Then she realized that this put her directly across the circle from Cupid.

"Excellent," he smiled. He took a sip of his tea, put the cup down on the small table, and stood up. "Auras. That's the matter we'll be discussing today. I know, I know...It's all so new-aged. Next I'll be reading you the tarot." The assembled crowd laughed at the joke. "But it is a matter of some importance, though most of you won't ever have the means to know it. Most beings in the universe do not hold the ability to read a person's energy - luckily for you, I can."

"A convenient scam for a cult," Ginger muttered to Kira audibly.

Cupid pretended not to notice this. "Auras appear as a vague cloud of color around a person. The color is intrinsic to the person themselves - it is a sort of background radiation from the star their life-giving molecule was created by. You cannot change this color, but you can mute it or warp it or...Well, it's useless to try to explain. Everyone's aura is incredibly unique - there are colors that human eyes cannot perceive, so the combinations are endless. Complications can arise in relationships when your auras are complimentary colors. They pair so well, but when mixed just muck things up a bit. Some will tell you that you should aim to find that person with the exact shade as yours, but that is nearly impossible to do so you shouldn't hold out for that. What you should aim for in a relationship is someone with an aura that will mix perfectly with your own to create a new color."

...

The seminar ended, and Alex and Kira had spotted their target. They moved on to try to talk to her. Several of the patrons tried to hang behind to talk to Cupid. He seemed strangely reticent about shaking hands.

"What's that about?" asked Jack. "Have you got a germ phobia, like Ginger?"

Cupid chuckled. "No, I just try not to touch people without consent, my dear boy. My touch has more affect on people than people think."

Jack patted him on the cheek with his hand. "Mine does too," he flirted.

Cupid shook his hand. "Oh you shouldn't've done that. But don't worry, it'll wear off in a few hours. Try not to spread it."

Jack frowned. "Spread what?"

Cupid caught sight of Ginger trying to leave the room. "Stella, a word?"

She froze. "This isn't more of your junk about auras, is it?"

"It's not junk, and that's not it."

She crossed her arms. "Then what?"

"I just wondered when we might have your famous rendition of 'Love Me or Leave Me'?" he queried.

She squinted at him. "What are you on about?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you not know the song?"

She crossed her arms, accidentally breaking character out of annoyance. "Of course I bloody know it! It's an old jazz standard, everyone's done it! But what do you mean my 'famous rendition'? I've never performed it!"

"I just would've expected it from you, is all," he said. 

"Well not in this bloody set, that's for sure." She rolled her eyes. "Bit clingy. Besides, I'd need a proper pianist-"

"I could assist-"

"And nobody is up to the challenge," Ginger finished firmly.

There it was again, that peculiar expression as if he was all at once confused, surprised, and impressed by her. "You really won't sing it?"

"Not really in the mood. It's a good song and all, but I'd rather not."

He nodded. "Fair enough." He changed the subject. "We never finished our earlier conversation. About the French."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we get it, you've got the whole language of love gimmick-"

"I assure you, this has nothing to do with a gimmick. Now...where did we leave off? Ah yes, about how your whole life is a warm up for something you're not brave enough to do."

"Now hang on-"

"You're not listening. The word 'rehearsal' is actually quite interesting. You know it shares etymological roots with the word 'hearse'? Do you ever think these patterns might be the death of you? Just food for thought."

...

"No I don't think he was threatening me," Ginger insisted, in a whisper. "I can't explain why, but I genuinely don't think he was."

"I don't understand," the Doctor replied. "You're such a paranoid person generally, and yet you're not a little on edge?"

"I'm always a little on edge," she admitted. "But I dunno, I just get this feeling..."

"Stella?" A young woman appeared. "We're ready to go on."

"Are you gonna be alright?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, fine," Ginger said. "What about you, though? You look a little..."

"Hot?" Jack asked, flashing a grin.

"Well yes," Ginger said, matter-of-factly. "By which I mean you're sweating a lot."

"Now that you mention it, I am burning up a bit," he asked, fanning himself. "Anyone else feeling odd?"

"Odd how?" the Doctor asked.

"I dunno..." he replied. "I'm just...not really feeling myself right now."

"Well I should hope not," Ginger teased. "We're in public!"

He changed the subject. "You're not really singing from your heart right now," he said, seriously. "It's no good singing all these classics if you're not really feeling them. You've gotta reconnect somehow."

"Right, I'll try to reconnect," Ginger said. "You two take the opportunity to do some more poking around while Cupid's distracted. Do _try _to get along. If you continue bickering like you always do, you're gonna get noticed."

"What makes you think he's distracted?" asked the Doctor.

"If he's not now, he's about to be," Ginger said. "I've noticed that he's always front-and-center when I'm doing these sets. He's very enthusiastic with the clapping."

...

The Doctor and Jack investigated Cupid's office for clues.

"I'm not finding anything," said Jack. "Nothing but boxes of chocolates."

"There must be something," the Doctor said.

"You know what this reminds me of?" asked Jack. "Freud's office, just before we got caught."

"That almost seems like a million years ago now," the Doctor mused. He slammed a drawer shut. "I don't understand it! This man can't have been this careful! He has to have left a clue somewhere!"

They could suddenly hear footsteps from outside.

"Quick, over here!" Jack said, pinning the Doctor to the wall and kissing him. The ploy worked: they were mistaken for a happy couple and left alone.

They continued kissing for a moment longer than they needed to. Jack pulled away first. "Alright..." he said, clearing his throat. "Back to work."

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed. "Back to work."

But neither of them moved.

Jack looked at him. "You sure you're feeling alright? You're looking kinda sweaty."

"It's a bit hot in here right now, isn't it?" the Doctor replied, tugging on his collar.

"Yeah a little bit," Jack admitted.

"What, no one-liner?" the Doctor teased. "You're off your game, Captain."

"Doctor...Is that your round about way of daring me to come onto you?"

"Definitely not! It's not like you could handle me anyway."

"Is that a challenge, Doctor?" Jack asked. 

There was a beat where they both looked at each other, barely breathing.

"But now that you mention it..." the Doctor said, slowly. "It _has _been a while. Since anyone, y'know...tried."

"This is getting weird," Jack said, finally. He extricated himself and backed away toward the desk. "We should stop this before it gets out of hand. I touched Cupid earlier and he indicated that maybe he'd transmitted something to me...I think this must be it."

"It's possible," the Doctor said, clearly a bit freaked out.

"You know, I always did have a bit of a crush on you," Jack said, unable to stop himself. "Nothing serious, just like...I'd hit that if given the chance."

"You'd hit anything if given the chance," the Doctor said, dismissively.

The Doctor didn't think about it, he just kissed him. He didn't understand where the urge had come from, but he found himself powerless against it.

Jack kissed him back before pulling away. "We were in the middle of something, weren't we? Something important? Before we started addressing the obvious sexual tension between us?"

"Suddenly you're the rational one?" the Doctor said, kissing him again. This time Jack didn't resist at all, kissing him back and pushing him onto Cupid's desk. Things escalated quickly as they began throwing off their respective trench coats and fumbling with each other's clothing.

Just then, Ginger snuck back there with Alex and Kira not far behind. Alex was, of course, mortified, but Kira was smirking and Ginger's jaw dropped.

"Are we interrupting something?" Ginger asked, too startled to summon up her character and just speaking in her normal voice. "Because this wasn't what I had in mind when I said that you two needed to try to get along."

"Don't stop on our account," Kira teased.

The Doctor broke apart at once, blushing furiously. He stumbled backwards and accidentally grabbed Ginger's arm to steady himself. "No!" the Doctor said. "Not interrupting." 

"This is so wrong on so many levels," Alex said. "Right, Ginger?"

Ginger was feeling strangely warm all of a sudden as she pulled away from the Doctor. "What?" she said, head swimming suddenly. "Uh...yeah, sure. I mean, whatever she just said."

"We were drugged!" the Doctor defended himself.

"Okay, Mulder, it's none of my business," Ginger said, holding her hands in the air in a peaceable gesture. "There are too many people in here, I can't breathe. I'm gonna go elsewhere, where it's not so hot."

"You okay, Ginger?" Jack asked, noticing that she suddenly looked sweaty as well.

The Doctor's eyes got wide. "You don't think she's _also _been affected-" He looked at his hand. "Oh no, I touched her. I must've transmitted it-"

"What is going _on _here?" asked Alex.

"Affected?" Ginger scoffed. "I don't get...affected. It's just _really _hot in here. Anyone else having trouble breathing? Excuse me, it's like the planet Spaceball in here!" She turned and exited quickly.

...

They all ran after Ginger, but bumped into Cupid first. "Ah," he said. "I can see you've been busy, Captain Jack. Exactly what I was afraid of."

"Ginger's been affected too," the Doctor said. "Or, at least, we think she might be. She ran off before we could confirm."

"Yes, she would do," said Cupid. "She's likely very confused at the moment and needs space. "Let's all split up and look for her, alright? Meet back in my office in, say, 10 minutes? Someone should've found her by then."

...

Jack was the one who managed to find her. She was sitting on a bench out in the garden.

"Surprised you didn't split when you had the chance," he said to her. 

"I considered it," she said. "Would be perfectly within my right."

"Don't worry," he replied, putting his hands out in front of him. "I'm not gonna sit. We've both been affected by Cupid, so I don't want to be responsible for anything that may happen."

"As if anything would," she muttered.

"You're avoiding the Doctor, though," Jack said. "Why? What's this thing with you and him?"

"There is no thing with me and him!" she scoffed. "Why? Did he say something?"

"Not directly," Jack replied. "It just seems to me that you're trying really hard to avoid having to be alone with him. Did something happen?"

"No of course not," she said, waving this off. "We're cool. Honestly."

"But?"

"Things just feel a little...weird right now. I don't know exactly what's happening."

"You want to talk about it?"

"Alright, I'm kind of freaking out," she admitted like a dam bursting.

"There it is! Lay it on me! What's with you?"

Alex had gotten separated from Kira and found Jack and Ginger at that moment. She couldn't help but overhear.

"The two of us did almost die, okay?" said Ginger. "So emotions were running real high. And I went and heroically saved our lives, as usual, but when I got back...Well thank God you guys interrupted us."

"Why?"

She hesitated, clearly feeling torn and anxious about the whole thing. "Doc said he had something important to tell me, something he'd wanted to tell me for ages but couldn't find the right time or way...He said he didn't know how."

"And?"

_"And..._I've seen movies, Jack. I know what that kind of speech means. He didn't say anything else but...Like it's pretty obvious he was going to tell me he's in love with me. And yeah, I know that's ridiculous because like...The way I am generally like I have nothing going for me, but...That's the only logical explanation I can come up with."

"And what would you have said, if he had said that to you?"

The look of terror on her face spoke volumes. "Honestly, I don't know. My first instinct is to run as far and as fast as possible. I don't need this responsibility."

"Right?" Alex said, finally coming out of the shadows.

"Sweet mother of baby Topher, where did you come from?" Ginger said, clutching her heart and getting to her feet. "Sneaking around like a ninja."

"I'm having the same problem now with Kira, though," Alex pressed on. "Except she actually _did _say she loved me a few weeks ago."

"And what did you say?" Jack asked, surprised that he hadn't already heard this story.

"Well it was when she thought she was gonna die. Once she came to her senses, I assured her that I knew she didn't mean it. It was a heat of the moment thing."

"God that's the worst, though," Ginger said. "Like how dare these people be putting their feelings on us? That's way too much responsibility!"

"The nerve, honestly!"

"You're emotionally stunted teenagers, both of you," Jack said, shaking his head.

"I'm just saying," said Ginger. "That it's much easier if he just...if he just takes this opportunity to not talk about things. I mean, like...I almost made a mistake too, so I get it. Heat of the moment, like you said. I thought he might die and I'd never see him again. But it was like Paramore said, 'I caught myself, I had to stop myself, from saying something that I never should've thought-"

Alex was familiar with the song. "Wait...you had the thought?"

"It wasn't real!" Ginger insisted. "There were a lot of chemicals in my head and it was a split second. But I didn't say anything and it's good that I didn't. I hadn't thought it through. I'd hate to say something in the heat of the moment then have to retract it later. Imagine living with those consequences. I'd make things real awkward, and all for nothing. I hate people who just say things without making damn sure they know what they're talking about. I don't know the first thing about love or feelings, so there's no way I'd have an informed opinion on the subject."

Jack tilted his head and regarded her with no small amount of amusement. "You know love isn't an opinion, right?"

Ginger rolled her eyes. "Alright, Spike, go on and tell me it's not brains, it's blood-"

"There you are!" the Doctor said. "I've been looking all over!"

"Don't get a tone with me," Ginger snapped instantly. "Nobody said you have to keep running after me all the time!"

"Doctor, maybe it's best just to give her some space," Jack said, attempting to pacify them.

This irritated the Doctor to no end. "Space? I give her plenty of bloody space! And since when is it _your _job to tell me to give someone space, Jack? You don't seem to be following your own advice!"

"Alright, just tone it down, Doctor," Ginger said. "You're overreacting. Not even sure _why _you're overreacting, but I'm not okay with this."

Cupid chose this moment to appear. "Ah, well, I see that you've all found each other," he said. "Alex, dear, why don't you locate Kira? The grownups need to have a little chat..."

...

"How many sugars?" asked Cupid as he handed each of them a cup of tea. "Sit, please, sit."

There were five seats laid out in front of Cupid's desk and Jack took a seat right in the middle. The Doctor weighed his options and picked the chair next to his, leaving the one near the door open. Ginger took another moment agonizing about her options before she picked one closest to the wall on the other side of Jack. The Doctor looked annoyed by this.

"You noticed that as well, I take it?" Cupid asked him.

"Noticed what?" the Doctor asked. "I didn't notice anything."

"You picked your seat because you know she likes being near exits. You thought she'd choose to sit next to you, but she got nervous and sat instead on the very opposite part of the room despite her anxiety at being further away from the exit."

"That's a large assumption, you don't even-" Ginger began.

"Know you?" Cupid raised his eyebrows. "I think we're past that, don't you, Ginger?"

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"At a loss for words, my flame-haired child? How very unlike you. My, my...but you are so young. So fresh. Haven't even hit your first centennial yet, have you?"

The Doctor looked up sharply at him at the same time that Ginger looked mildly confused. "Who are you?" the Doctor asked.

"My dear Doctor, I am Cupid," the man replied, jovially. "Though you never believe it when I tell you."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked. He didn't have the same feeling of familiarity that Ginger did.

He frowned at the Doctor. "My dear blue man, this is becoming quite _harrowing_." He glanced at Ginger. "Another word related to 'rehearse'. I trust you at least know that one. You can't've forgotten it."

She caught this one. "Hamlet."

"I'm...lost," Jack said. "What does this have to do with Hamlet?"

"The origin of the word harrow," Ginger said. "It was a farming instrument, used to till. Shakespeare was the first to use it in the modern sense - it was a metaphor when he used it."

"It harrows me with fear and wonder..." the Doctor mused.

Ginger smiled brightly at him. "Horatio," she nodded.

"It meant in the metaphorical sense to tear someone up psychologically," the Doctor continued.

"Harrow's were also called hearses," Ginger continued to explain. "Eventually the word 'hearse' was used for this thing that was put on a coffin-"

"And eventually 'hearse' became a word for a vehicle to carry the coffin round in," the Doctor said back to her.

"But that common root of 'harrow'/'hearse' was shared in 'rehearse'," she finished, proudly. "Like the harrow, it was raking over the material over and over again. Almost an act of mindless repetition."

"Which brings us to now," Cupid continued, leaning forward in his seat. "This thing, this _harrowing rehearsal, _over and over on a loop...The auras in this room are doing some very interesting things."

"You talk about them as if they're sentient," Jack replied.

"Don't indulge him," Ginger groaned.

"It's not sentience, exactly," Cupid said, as if he hadn't noticed. "They merely behave in ways that you would if you'd let yourself. You can always tell barely repressed tension from the way auras interact."

"Tension?" Ginger scoffed, rolling her eyes and leaning back in her seat. "There's no tension. Why does everyone always say that?"

Cupid merely smiled fondly. "My dear, you betray yourself." He seemed to notice his word choice and got briefly contemplative. "As you always do..." He came back to himself. "You're projecting, is what I'm saying. For once, nobody was actually talking about you. Though if you'd like to talk about the way your blue auras mix and mingle, I'd be more than willing-"

Ginger was too disturbed and mortified to allow this train of thought to reach the station. "No no, please, if you had some other point, please do make it."

He smiled at her for a moment more before turning to the Doctor and Jack. "I was actually referring to the two of you. And, I suppose, maybe a bit to her. The way your auras interact causes hers to fluctuate in some interesting ways...Simply put, the way you two behave has an impact on her."

"What is that supposed to mean?" the Doctor asked, indignantly. "I haven't done anything. I'm just trying to keep Jack out of trouble. It's not my fault that he keeps sticking himself in the middle of places he doesn't belong-"

"Hey!" Ginger cut in. "Lay off him, why don't you?"

"Oh sure, take his side-"

"I will because you're being weird and ridiculous and I don't like it. You're always having a go at him, so just lay off!"

"My dear Doctor, surely you realize that this petty jealousy you harbor for Captain Jack is making Ginger incredibly uncomfortable?" Cupid interjected.

"Jealousy?" he scoffed. "Of Jack? Now who's being ridiculous."

"Perhaps I should amend my previous statement," Cupid replied. "It's not merely a jealousy of Captain Jack. It's Captain Jack and Ginger."

"That's ridiculous," Ginger replied. "He can't be jealous of us. There's nothing about us to _be _jealous of. We're friends, that's all."

"Perhaps you're nicer to Jack than you are to him?" Cupid offered.

"You see that all in our auras, do you?" Ginger asked, sarcastically.

"Yes," Cupid replied, as if this were an obvious statement. "Just look at you three, such lovely blues. But Jack is the differing shade, the light pastel blue, like the sky on a dewy spring morning. It interacts with Ginger's in a very particular way, very familial and protective, as hers is for him. Quite a difference from how hers mixes and mingles with yours, Doctor. You saw the way the two were fast friends, and you felt insecure about that. And you knew that was a ridiculous thing to feel, but still couldn't help yourself."

"He likes to be the center of attention," Ginger agreed.

"He likes to be the center of your attention," Cupid observed. "Don't protest, I'm sure it's that way with all his companions."

"Yeah, it is," Jack said. "He likes to show off. And I'm fine with that, honestly, there's no reason he should be threatened."

"I'm not _threatened," _the Doctor began, irritably.

"See, there your auras go again," Cupid said, patiently. "Doctor, they're so similar and by all accounts should get on without incident. But you keep withdrawing. Sparking conflict. It's quite silly of you, honestly. You worry because Jack fills a very similar role to you. But he's in his own story most days. That makes him no threat to the role you play yourself."

Something about the way Cupid said that gave Ginger the strangest feeling of deja vu.

"Ridiculous," Ginger said again, deciding to shake this off. "You don't know us. The Doctor wouldn't get jealous over me. Whatever the actual problem is, it has nothing to do with me."

"I think that might be true," Cupid said. "It's an older issue. Perhaps a girl from before you met Ginger? One you had a rivalry over?"

"We never had a rivalry over a girl," Jack replied.

"Well," the Doctor began, as he realized it.

"And there's our breakthrough," Cupid smiled. "Ginger, I'd suggest we give them a moment to talk."

They left the room, and the Doctor and Jack looked at each other awkwardly.

"You know I've got no problem with you," Jack said.

"And I've got no problem with you," the Doctor said. "Do we have to talk about this now?"

"I'm pretty sure if we don't, then Angry Kimmy Schmidt is going to kill us both."

He sighed. "I guess I do get a little threatened sometimes."

"When you're not the center of attention?" Jack teased, earning a furious glare from the Doctor. "Oh come on, what could you possibly find threatening about me? I'm not here trying to encroach on your territory or whatever."

"Maybe not now," he said, under his breath. Then Jack realized what was going on.

"Oh," Jack breathed. "I should've known all along. This is about Rose."

"It seems like everything is nowadays."

"You know Rose loved you, right? Nothing was able to come between the two of you. Not even me. Even with the offer of a threesome." The Doctor rolled his eyes, so Jack carried on. "I was never a serious threat to that relationship. And whatever this is with Ginger...You know I'm not a threat to that either. Strangely enough, I'm not really into her that way at all."

"But you're into everything that moves!"

"I know, I'm surprised too," Jack admitted. "It's not that she's bad looking, it's just...I don't feel that way about her. I thought that was plain from the beginning. We're really good friends and that's all I need right now. And you know she's never expressed an interest in me like that. If there's something you want from her, that's on you. I'm not a threat to that. But a bit of advice - I don't think Ginger's into the sullen possessive male thing. You've gotta tone it down and stop competing for attention or she won't give you any."

"Noted."

"Should we kiss now?"

"Don't push it."

Meanwhile, Ginger and Cupid were standing just outside.

"How do I know you?" Ginger asked. "We've never met but...I have this strange feeling that I can trust you."

"All in good time," Cupid replied. "But you seem ruffled by this, dear. You seem very uncomfortable with the attention. I would've thought it would be the opposite. Two men fighting over you...Well, isn't that supposed to be a girl's dream?"

"I thought we just established that they're not really fighting over me," Ginger rolled her eyes. "Besides...I've never liked attention, not in that way. And I think those movies are stupid. Love triangles are dumb. I'd be _so _stressed out to have people fighting over me." Then she came back to herself. "Wait, I'm the one who's supposed to be asking the questions here."

"No, the only thing you're supposed to do is follow your heart," Cupid said.

"Not sure I have one of those."

"You do," he replied. "And it's always been his. I don't know why you keep struggling against it. A piece of advice, dear...Don't let it go to your head. You and the Doctor...It's like I've watched you guys rehearse this dance over and over again. I know the steps. But you never improve. I think you two could really be something great if only you weren't so insecure."

"Insecure?" she scoffed. "You're not making sense."

"You have that little voice in your head, the one that tells you that if you don't give him whatever it is that he's looking for then he'll go away. In my opinion, it's always better if you stop listening to nagging voices. They'll lie to you. Don't ever assume you know what somebody wants. You'd do better just to ask." 

The Doctor and Jack exited the office at that moment.

"Ah, good, that's settled then," Cupid said, satisfaction evident. "Glad you worked it out, boys."

"You were in there a while," Ginger said, trying to joke. "Was getting concerned you might be doing a bit more, eh, making up." She looked away quickly as the image of the two men kissing hit her again and she found herself still feeling a bit flushed.

"It's not that I didn't offer," Jack said.

"My dear Captain," said Cupid. "Alex and Kira have been gone a while, haven't they? Should we not venture to search for them?"

"Now that you mention it, they have been gone longer than expected," Jack said, allowing himself to be escorted away.

The Doctor found himself examining Ginger with mounting concern. She was standing with her eyes fixed firmly on the floor, grasping her left wrist in her right hand and giving off a general posture of unease. She was flushed and obviously sweating.

"You alright, Ginger?" he asked her.

"Fine," she snapped, her voice slightly breathy. "Why?"

"You're breathing really fast," he said, concerned. "Your cheeks are flushed, which is unusual since you normally look like a ghost. And you're sweating a lot. Let me just see if you have a fever." 

Something in the back of his mind knew this must be more symptoms of whatever it was that Cupid had infected them with, but he was moved to touch her and couldn't resist. He was concerned, of course he was...but that was more of an excuse than anything else.

He put a hand on her forehead and she felt an electric shock run through her. Images sprang to her mind and seemed to flow from her to him through the conduit of his hand. Confusing images that she didn't understand. At first it was the image of the Doctor kissing Jack...Then suddenly, without being sure which of them had conjured the image, she'd taken Jack's place. She took a shuddering breath and swatted his hand away furiously as she backed into the wall. "I'm just fine," she insisted.

"You're burning up, though," he replied, drawn to her even more now and unable to stop himself from moving closer. "Ginger, you're obviously infected too."

"Let's say I am, hypothetically," she said. "Would it make me do...what you and Jack were doing? Before we found you, I mean?"

"Potentially," he said. It was an uncomfortable thought but suddenly the only thought he had. He had to admit, it wasn't an unpleasant one.

"So then how would you being around me help at all?" Ginger asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. There was a loud noise that turned out to be a drum being tested on the stage nearby. He reached out and gripped her arms out of reflex. She felt her heart skip a beat at the touch.

"You've gotta stop doing that," she said.

"Doing what?"

"That," she said, vaguely. "That thing...that thing you're doing. That's making me really warm right now for no reason..." She was feeling things she'd never felt before and it was freaking her out. But the longer he stood there rubbing her arms, the less confused and scared she was. There was that strange gravity she'd felt towards him before, only magnified.

He reached out a tentative hand and brushed her wig off her neck, never letting his eyes leave hers. "You're not being much like you today...I almost don't recognize you."

"Yeah," she breathed. "That was sort of the point. Be someone I'd never be...Do things I'd..." Her eyes traveled to his lips. "Never do." She took another breath and got a hold of herself. "I've gotta...I've gotta go. Perform. We don't...have time to unpack all this right now." She pulled away from him. "Or possibly ever."

"Not to be a peeping Tom," Cupid said, emerging from the wings. "But you're doing it again. Putting it off."

"What is this?" Ginger demanded. "What have you done?"

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he smiled sadly. "I meant to walk you all through the problems you're facing, give you some context...I didn't count on Jack touching me."

Ginger scoffed. "Well, that's your first mistake."

"My skin excretes neurotransmitters and pheromones in high concentrations," Cupid admitted. "It's why I don't touch anyone. It won't make you do anything that you don't want to do, but it does tend to make people a bit less...hesitant about following their hearts desires."

Ginger rolled her eyes. "Hearts desires? Don't be stupid."

"What happened with Jack," the Doctor said. "That wasn't my hearts desire."

"Sometimes when we can't have what we want, we turn to whatever's available," Cupid said. "And you can't pretend you haven't thought about it. Even I have thought about it, but I recognized that it could never be right with my...condition."

"Make it stop," Ginger said, frustrated. "I don't like this. I feel all warm and not in the good way from before."

"It'll wear off soon," Cupid said. "But this is a good opportunity for you two to talk. My powers can magnify what already exists, but they don't create something out of nothing." He zeroed in on them both. "I mean just look at your auras...the exact same shade of TARDIS blue. The way they mingle and merge even when the two of you draw back...They're magnetized, and locked together inextricably. One would almost envy it." He blinked. "But that's getting ahead of myself. You're quite right, my dear, we haven't the time for all this melodrama. Pour that energy onto the stage. Give us one hell of a finale."

"Wait, just, wait a minute," the Doctor said. "We've gotten so off track. We came here to find Lily."

"Ah," Cupid said, sheepishly. "Well, I admit I haven't been entirely truthful. Lily's an actor. Everyone here is. I wanted so badly to meet you, but you'd never agree to stay without a purpose."

"So this was a trap?" Ginger asked, crossing her arms. She stepped forward so that she was between the Doctor and Cupid - not noticing that she did this.

"My dear, so suspicious," he replied. "You always are. No no...I just thought you need a little push. As you do now. Please, by all means...Play us out."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because it's what you do. Please do this for your number one fan."

Ginger couldn't explain it, but she wanted to do this. For some reason she almost felt like she needed his approval. She didn't normally take notes, but she had the feeling that if he gave her any she'd at least consider his opinion. She didn't like this.

"Fine," she said. "One last song. Then you've got some explaining to do."

"This'll be a treat," he said, gleefully rubbing his hands together. "I'm gonna go take my seat!"

Ginger and the Doctor looked at each other awkwardly. Now that they were alone, that strange feeling between them was back.

"What do you make of all this?" the Doctor asked.

"I don't know," she said. "But I've got too much energy and I need to get it out. So I'm going to play along."

There was a long pause while they looked at each other. 

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna go sing now," she said, quickly.

"Yeah, looking forward to it, break a leg," he rushed to say.

"I'll break yours!" she shot back.

...

The band took the stage again. They immediately struck up a melody with the guitars while Ginger leaned into the microphone, peaking one leg out from beneath her dress to hook it around the mic stand.

_"Ah yes, I remember too well_

_How hard I tried avoiding your spell_

_It was a cold October night_

_It was a far from sober night_

_And I was taken at first sight_

_And this was much to your delight_

_I heard that you were looking for prey_

_Hungry for a different girl everyday_

_But you were so sly in coming in_

_I wouldn't fight, I let you win_

_Although the blood upon your chin_

_Told me exactly where you'd been..."_

Ginger looked over the crowd, spotting the Doctor in its midst and locking eyes as she continued with the song.

_"Trouble..."_

When the song finally ended, the Doctor had filled the others in on what was happening, and they were all just as puzzled as he was.

Cupid appeared at their table as Ginger and the band were getting ready to start a second song. "Now that the theatrics are over," he said. "I feel I ought to leave you all with a little warning."

"A warning?" Jack asked. "What kind?"

"Relax, my good fellow, this is not a threat. I'm simply...looking out for her." He looked up at Ginger. "As I always should've done a better job of doing. Just be careful. With her. And watch out."

"Watch out for what?" the Doctor asked.

"There are worse things out there," Cupid replied, in a voice that was devoid of his usual mirth. "Things that could...spoil what you have. You're safe for now, but...cross their paths and they'll make your lives very difficult."

"What kind of things?" asked Alex.

"Beware the Queen of Hearts," he replied, cryptically. "That's...all I'm at liberty to say. For now." He looked at the Doctor. "And I want to leave you with this." He swooped down to give the Doctor a quick peck on the lips. "There. I really shouldn't've interfered but...I'm hoping that'll be enough." The Doctor was looking completely thrown off by this bizarre behavior, as was everyone else. "There's no harm in it, since you're already infected." Cupid simply continued on. "Be safe." He looked around at them. "All of you." He snapped his fingers and was gone.

Alex playfully punched the Doctor on the arm. "What was that all about?" she teased. "You got the hots for Cupid suddenly?"

"No," the Doctor said, still really perplexed by this. "People just find me naturally attractive. Can't help the effect I have on people."

"That was really weird," Kira shivered. "Did anyone else think that was really weird?"

The band had just begun playing a slow, sad tune.

"We've decided to do one more song," Ginger said. "This one is by Fiona Apple."

_"I don't understand about complimentary colors_

_And what they say_

_Side by side they both get bright_

_Together they both get gray."_

She looked up again at the Doctor, making eye contact before looking quickly away.

_"But he's been pretty much yellow_

_And I've been kind of blue_

_But all I can see is_

_Red, red, red, red, red_

_Now... what am I gonna do?"_

"No, no, no what are you doing?" Jack said, jumping up on the stage and motioning for them to stop playing.

"The real question, Jack," Ginger said, looking absolutely furious. "Is why are you interrupting my performance like it's Spiderman 3 in here? That's the worst Spiderman movie for a reason."

"They're not doing you justice here," Jack said. "Trouble was a step in the right direction, yeah. But you're doing the album version of 'Red Red Red'?"

"I happen to like this song-"

"It's a great song, don't get me wrong," he said. "But we need to make some adjustments. First, we're not doing the album version, we're doing the demo. Second, I'm jumping on piano. Third...May I?" He gently steered her into the wings while the audience murmured in confusion. He removed the wig she was wearing and smoothed out her short red hair as best he could. Then he held out his hands. "Contacts, please?" She took them out and handed them to him. "Now put your glasses on, kid. You were doing perfect as Stella, but this is a Fiona Apple song. I know they're all deeply personal for you. You need to sing this one as you."

"I can't do that," she protested.

"It's just one song, then we'll all get out of here, alright?"

She hesitated before nodding, excitement mounting. "Alright, I'm in."

They returned to the stage and the band struck up the song, which was a lot more upbeat now that piano and drums were a part of it. She grinned, exhilarated, and started again.

_"I don't understand about complimentary colors_  
_And what they say_  
_Side by side they both get bright_  
_Together they both get gray_  
_But he's been pretty much yellow_  
_And I've been kind of blue_  
_But all I can see is_  
_Red, red, red, red, red_  
_Now... what am I gonna do?"_

Instead of being a sad, slow song, now the song felt heated. Ginger felt as if she were perfectly expressing the day's confusions and frustrations with this version. It provided a release. It provided catharsis.

_"I don't understand about diamonds_

_And why men buy them_

_What's so impressive about a diamond_

_Except the mining?"_

Then she caught the Doctor eye again by accident, and suddenly she was only singing to him.

_"But it's dangerous work_

_Trying to get to you too_

_And I think if I didn't have to kill_

_Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill myself doing it_

_Maybe I wouldn't think so much of you._

_I've been watching all the time_

_And I still can't find the tack_

_But I wanna know is, is it okay?_

_Is it just fine?_

_Or is it my fault?_

_Is it my lack?_

_I don't understand about_

_The weather outside_

_Or the harmony in a tune_

_Or why somebody lied_

_But there's solace a bit in submitting_

_To the fitfully, cryptically true_

_What's happened, has happened_

_What's coming is already on its way_

_With a role for me to play_

_And I don't understand_

_I'll never understand_

_But I'll try to understand_

_There's nothing else I can do."_

She fanned herself as the song ended, positively burning up. Jack got up from his piano and took her hand, leading her in a bow.

"Let's get going," he said.

...

They returned to the apartment above the tea shop to find it cleared out. Alex checked all the rooms. 

"He's gone," she said.

"Not surprised," Ginger replied. "I didn't think he'd stick around. What did he say before he left?"

"He just said we might be in danger," the Doctor said. "'Beware the Queen of Hearts.'"

Ginger made a noise of disbelief. "I can't believe this."

"What?" the Doctor asked. "Do you know who he was talking about? Have you met this Queen of Hearts before?"

"No, no, I have no idea what he was on about," Ginger rolled her eyes. "But he's _definitely _taunting me."

"Taunting you?" Alex asked. "How?"

"The Queen of Hearts," Ginger replied, as if it should be obvious. "I auditioned for that role in a play more than a decade ago. It was the first role I ever worked really hard for and it was stolen from me by typecasting. They just made me play understudy." She began having the strangest feeling of deja vu...something was definitely nagging at her.

"And you're not...over that by now?" Alex asked, timidly.

"It's a point of pride," Ginger replied. "But that's not what's bothering me now. I thought Cupid just knew who I am now...but if he's intentionally using the Queen of Hearts to get to me..."

"Then he knows who you were," the Doctor finished, suddenly understanding.

"And who...were you?" Jack asked.

"Is it time?" Kira asked. "Are we gonna get backstory?"

Ginger snapped out of it. "No of course not. Got no backstory, me. That's a story for half-past never. Let's just drop it, alright?"


	34. Desire

The adults had a lot to talk about, so Alex and Kira went to gather their things to prepare for leaving Cupid's apartment to go back to London.

"I really liked that last song Ginger did," Kira said. "It's really made me think of some things."

"Like what?"

"Oh you know...Emotional things." She sighed. "Alex, what are we doing here?"

"Uh...packing?"

"You know what I mean. I don't know, maybe that song spoke to me more than it should have. I'm trying so hard to get through to you and sometimes it feels like I am, but we're still as far away as ever."

"What do you mean? I'm still right here."

"I told you I loved you and you said nothing."

"Yeah," Alex said, chuckling uncomfortably. "And I understood that you didn't mean that."

"But I did mean it. I do love you. But you don't feel that way about me."

Alex said nothing.

"Well?" Kira demanded, somewhat desperately. "Do you?"

"Why does it matter how I feel?"

"Because it matters! To me! I care about you, Alex, and you brush me off as if that means nothing. And what I wanna know is, is it okay? Is it just fine? Or is it my fault? Is it my lack?"

"Of course not," Alex said. "Because you're perfect. You're Kira. You're smart and pretty and _way _out of my league. You don't to pretend like this is anything more than a temporary thing for you. Because I like you a lot, but someone like you will find someone better than me. Because there is always someone better than me."

"That's a real pessimistic way of looking at things."

"It's realistic. I'm not good enough for you. I never have been."

There was a brief moment where the two of them looked at each other without speaking.

"You're better than you think you are," Kira said. "But if your self-esteem is so low, then I don't know how I can help you. I've tried, I really have. I love you, but I don't know if this is going to work."

"That's probably for the best."

...

Alex hadn't spoken much on the car ride home. Jack dropped her off at Sarah Jane's place and headed home himself.

He walked in his front door and locked it behind him. When he flipped on the overhead light, he saw someone was in there waiting for him.

"Cora. This is a surprise."

"Been a long day, hasn't it?" the Corsair asked.

"It has. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

A slow grin spread across her face. "You really have to ask to what do you owe the pleasure? To me, of course."

He slowly caught on. "I like the sound of that. But I have to warn you-"

She kissed him. "How chivalrous of you to admit that you're still contagious. I know you were struck by Cupid today. It's why I'm here."

"You haven't by any chance been hit by Cupid's arrow, have you?" Jack asked.

"No, I know better," she said. She took off her coat. "This is no strings attached, you understand? I'm just stressed and need to relieve the tension. Always wondered what you'd be like."

"Well in that case..." he said, kissing her.

...

"Maybe I should go back and check on her," the Doctor said for the millionth time.

Ginger sighed. "Alex is fine, Doc. You need to give her some space."

"I guess you're right," the Doctor said. "But we're finally alone again. And we need to have a conversation now."

She groaned. "How about later? I'm not in the mood to be learning things right now. How about we just get high again? There are two more capsules left."

"Ginger," he sighed. "Remember what happened last time?"

"So we park the TARDIS somewhere safe and chill. Please?"

The Doctor really didn't want to. He wasn't sure if it was safe under the circumstances. "Will it make it easier to talk to you?"

"Definitely. Come on, just one last time. Then never again."

He found that hard to resist.

...

Ginger was giggling pretty hard.

"What?" the Doctor asked.

"I have no fucking clue what's happening on this show."

They were watching Ash VS Evil Dead, and neither of them could focus on it at all. They'd both changed into more comfortable clothes. She was now wearing black sweat pants and a red hoodie.

"That's because...you're completely stoned. You've literally lost the plot."

"Maybe...maybe we should give up on this. Put on some tunes."

"I can turn on Star Trek again if you promise to be nice about it?"

"I'm nice about it!"

"What was it you said last time we watched it?"

Ginger somehow remembered this vividly. "Captain's Log, Star Date Whothefuckcares: The primitive beings have not yet mastered the art of being convincingly wounded. That fake blood is obviously paint."

"See? Not nice."

"Who says? I think it's cute. Either way, I can't follow anything just now."

"Would you rather go to bed?" asked the Doctor. "I mean, in your own room? If you need sleep-"

"No," she said. "I'd rather be here. Not in the mood for being by myself." She decided to address the TARDIS. "Computer! Play some tunes!"

The room was filled with the song 'A Mistake' by Fiona Apple.

"That's fun," the Doctor chuckled. "You're real cheery, you know that?"

"Yeah, so I've been told." She paused for a second, regarding him. "So this isn't how your ideal Valentines would've gone, is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, obviously it's still a sham and I'm not buying in. Just figured you'd rather have been somewhere else with someone else." Neither of them noticed that the song changed to another Fiona Apple called one 'I Know'. "Especially if it's your favorite holiday or something."

"It's not my favorite holiday."

"It's not?"

"Nah. I always liked New Years. Gallifrey is such a serious place and we don't measure time the same way humans do. So I've always been obsessed by the human ritual. The arbitrary assignment of a beginning and end. The concept of a fresh start. An artificial regeneration that may or may not take. It's beautiful."

"You like humans entirely too much," she said. "It's weird."

"I don't regret you being here, by the way. I like having you around. Is now a good time to have that conversation?"

"We don't have to," she said softly. "I know what you're going to say."

This surprised him. "You do?"

"Yeah." And just then, something changed in Ginger. She made up her mind. The song switched again to Meg Myers, a song called 'Desire'.

She moved like someone who was lucid dreaming - that is, she was aware of what she was doing but was mentally debating herself about whether she wanted to be doing it. She closed the gap between them by positioning herself so that her legs straddled him as she awkwardly lowered herself onto his lap. For one brief moment, the only thing in his field of vision was her red hoodie before her face came into view. She looked straight into his eyes, which was a thing she was adverse to almost as much as touching. She put one hand on his face as she removed his glasses with the other.

"What are you doing?" he asked, perplexed.

"Giving in," she replied, softly. And then she was kissing him. Just like that, he was kissing her too, his arms circling around her waist to hold her closer. He couldn't help but notice that her face smelled slightly of watermelon. He could only think that she had washed her face when she went to change.

"Wait," he protested, breaking apart for a moment as sanity returned. "I think you might still be infected."

"No waiting," she replied. She pulled off her hoodie. "I think you've waited long enough. You've been very patient." Then she kissed him again, and he forgot what he'd been saying.

The song kept wailing, _How do you want me? How do you want me?_

She began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He ran his hands over her arms, then came back to his senses as his fingers traced her scars. She was shaking. He pulled away. "Ginger, stop." He held her at arm's length, looking up into her scared face. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's the grand plan, isn't it?" Ginger asked, stiffly. "You come in being all knight in shining armor saving the girl's life so you can convince her to sleep with you."

"That's not, no-"

"Oh come on, men are never interested in girls unless they think they've got a chance with them," she said, clearly frustrated. "And I don't want you to get bored and lose interest, so I'll do what you want. Just as long as you don't leave. Don't you want this?" She pulled her tank top off to reveal the black bra underneath and kissed him again.

This time, despite the instant rush of endorphins, he pulled away instantly. "Actually, yes," he replied, shocking himself as he said it. He had been denying it to himself for so long that it felt like a revelation to admit it. "Yes, I do want this right now. But I don't think you do. Ginger, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

She started shaking even more. "I don't?" she asked, blinking back tears.

And then the TARDIS changed the song again, this time synced to the Doctor's mood.

_"Search the sky for salvageable souls_

_And I stole you a pinhole camera_

_Continuity broke the needle_

_So let's lie here on the sofa_

_Sleep, my love_

_Sleep, my love..."_

"There is no grand plan," he assured her. "I don't have any ulterior motive. Sure, there might be things I want to do right now because of what you're doing, but I can put them out of my mind. I promise you that I'm not doing this to seduce you, and I promise that I'm perfectly fine to sit and watch movies. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. If you never want to do this, then I don't want you to do this."

The tears started rolling down her cheeks and she could hardly hold back the sobs as she buried her head in his chest. He put his arms around her again, this time to try to hold her together. It wasn't an easy task.

_"Thing eating you, and you not feel nothing_

_Dancing on the iceflow with the dead things_

_I watch you set your lonely wings on fire_

_So let's die here on the sofa_

_Sleep, my love_

_Sleep, my love_

_Arms to hold you_

_On the sofa..."_

"I just don't want you to go away," she sobbed, her voice muffled by his shirt. "I'm so stupid, I don't know what I'm doing or why I'm doing it."

"You're not stupid," he said, gently. "And I'm not going anywhere."

She cried for a few more moments until she'd managed to cry herself to sleep. The Doctor then gently moved so that he could lie her down on the sofa and cover her with a blanket without waking her. He sat there making sure she was sleeping soundly while slowly becoming conscious of the Ruby Throat song that was still playing.

_"Pretty nurse, I could've made you happy_

_And the horse with the blackest hoof_

_And I don't believe your genius will kill you_

_But I'll bury you on the sofa_

_Sleep, my love_

_Sleep, my love_

_Arms to hold you_

_On the sofa..."_

"Oh hush, you," the Doctor mumbled pointedly at the TARDIS. The TARDIS instantly got quiet, taking the hint that her cheeky choice of music wasn't as funny to him as she'd thought it would be.


	35. Roses

The Doctor paced in the console room all night, unable to sleep as he fretted about what he should do.

_That went well, _the TARDIS said to him.

"Oh don't you start," the Doctor said. "Not in the mood for 'told-you-so's."

_Well I did. I warned you that this activity you've been engaging in was risky. Yet you continued to engage in it even after it almost cost you your life._

"I'm sorry. I just thought she might be easier to talk to if-"

_And I told you that it wasn't healthy to rely on that. I warned you. Now look what's happened._

"I know, I know," the Doctor said. "You're right. This has gone on long enough. I have to tell her."

_Which part? _ _The part about how she's not human or the part about how you feel about her?_

"You're not helping," the Doctor warned.

_You're right. She deserves to know._

"...Which part?"

There was a short pause while the TARDIS tried to ascertain the most diplomatic way of saying this. _She's too fragile. She's not in any state for you to make this about you. She needs to know what she is._

"I'm not even sure what she is!" The TARDIS was silent for too long, which made him suspicious. "Do you?"

_She's too young and fragile,_ the TARDIS responded. _Whatever I may know, it wouldn't be fair to tell you before she knows. And telling her when she's like this is too dangerous._

"You sound like Cupid," the Doctor hissed.

_The only reason you don't like Cupid is because Ginger trusts him, whatever she says to the contrary. You also have problems with people who keep things from you._

"Yes I do. And right now, that includes you. I don't like this. You don't keep secrets from me."

_This one time, I must. For her safety._

"How long have you known? Since the medical scans?"

_Since the first time she stepped through my doors._

"But she _is _Gallifreyan?" he demanded. "Can you tell me that at least?"

_I have no records confirming it. If she has been put through a Chameleon Arch, she'd be hidden from me. Though certain structures in her brain seem to indicate that she might be._

"I saw the word on her fob watch," the Doctor said. "I know what that means. When you factor that in, what are her odds?"

_Nearly a hundred percent, Doctor._

"I tried to tell her," he said, frustrated. "I kept trying to start the conversation. But she kept cutting me off!"

_Yeah looks like she cut you off with her lips._

The Doctor's mind flashed back to that moment when she kissed him and the vivid memory of her watermelon face wash hit him like a wave. Now that he had something to compare it to, he could see more clearly than ever that the kisses in the maze had been the effects of mind control. In the maze, she'd been sure of herself as she crushed her lips against his. But this time she'd been softer, more anxious. She'd been trying hard to seem like she knew what she was doing, but she was obviously uncertain and her lips were as clumsy as her fumbling hands. He knew some of that had to be slowed reflexes from the drugs, but she'd been hesitant. She'd been scared. She hadn't wanted that. He had to admit that he scared himself with how much he'd wanted her when her lips met his. It was suddenly undeniable. It had been different from the kiss he'd had earlier that day with Jack. That had been a warm body and a mutual loneliness amplified by the affects of the Cupid contagion. This was something different. He felt as if lightning had struck him and he'd developed a taste for it. But he couldn't pursue that feeling. She'd obviously not wanted it. Continuing when she was so obviously drugged and potentially still infected would be taking advantage of her. She'd have to consent. And those hadn't been the kisses of someone who consented. He wanted her present and in her right mind if that was ever tried again, but he wasn't going to hold his breath over the possibility.

He shook himself out of it. "Why'd she do that? I don't understand."

_She doesn't understand. That's what's at the core of all of this. She's confused and scared._

"Confused and scared?" the Doctor repeated. "Because she doesn't know who she is?"

_Partially. But also about you._

"Me? She's not scared of me. What reason would she have to be scared of me?"

_She doesn't understand how she feels about you, so she's acting the way she thinks she's supposed to. And of course she's scared. You think that girl has ever had a home before? She can't trust that if she doesn't give you what she thinks you want, you'll let her stay._

"But I'd never-"

_She doesn't know that. You need to talk to her. Properly. And don't bungle it up like you always do._

"What do you mean 'bungle it up'? I don't bungle!"

_You do. You expect that anyone you care for will know your intentions the same way that I do. But you're rarely clear. That's why you're in this mess in the first place. Talk to her. Before it's too late._

"What do you mean before it's too late? You don't think I pushed her over the edge? She was doing so well, but if you think I pushed her back in her recovery-"

_No, Doctor. You have somewhere to be, remember?_

"Oh." He'd forgotten entirely. "Yes, I mean, of course. And I'm still going to go. It's on my to-do list. Right after talking to Ginger."

...

When Ginger awoke the next morning, she found herself alone on the sofa with a blanket over her. She quickly located her tank top and hoodie on the floor and pulled them on as the night's events came flooding back to her. She left her hoodie unzipped.

She needed a moment to figure out what to do, so she went to her room and began pacing.

"Well now I've done it," she muttered aloud. "Gone and ruined it, the way I knew I would! Absolutely humiliated myself! And for no good reason! It's certainly not like I...And now I've ruined everything. I don't know what's wrong with me!" She sat on the edge of her bed and buried her face in her hands. Her memories came back to her in bursts. The way he'd frozen when she kissed him. The way she'd felt when he kissed her back...Well it had been strange. She didn't know what to make of it. It was something she hadn't wanted to do, something she _still _didn't want to do...But when his arms had tightened around her, pressing her against his body like that...She had to stop thinking about that. It was all too confusing. "TARDIS? Play me some tunes. But softly. And make it so softly that nobody can hear it from the hall. I need to think."

The TARDIS complied, playing some soft instrumentals.

"Thank you. TARDIS, what's wrong with me? Why did I...Why did I _do _that?"

The TARDIS communicated her best guess by switching to the second verse of a Meg & Dia song.

_"Why are some girls so naive?_  
_He didn't unbutton your blouse to see._  
_A better view of your heart._  
_Oh yeah, can't blame you for trying."_

Ginger groaned. "Yeah, I do think like that, don't I?"

_"I don't even know you._  
_You won't even know I'm gone._  
_Was it something I did wrong?"_

Ginger felt like she might cry. She got up. "That's enough, TARDIS. I can't put this off anymore. I'll just have to go accept the consequences." She glanced at herself in the mirror and smoothed down her hair as best as possible. 

_I did try to warn you, you know, _the TARDIS said.

"Warn me?" Ginger replied. "How?"

_You asked me to play you some tunes. I played 'A Mistake'. _

"Oh so you knew that was gonna happen?"

_You were both giving off curiously strong pheromone signatures. _

"Thanks," she said, dryly. "You're so helpful."

...

She found him in the control room, messing with absently with some dials. His mind was very far from there on that day.

"Hey," she said awkwardly, trying not to startle him.

"Ah, you're awake!" the Doctor said, seeming a bit awkward himself but as if he was trying very hard to seem normal. "Did you, ah, sleep well?"

She shrugged. "I guess?"

"No more nightmares?"

"Had some weird dreams, but nothing too bad. Guess that means you left at some point." She added this last statement as an attempt at humor.

"Why does it mean that?"

"Oh you know..." She suddenly realized that this was admitting too much. "Because I've noticed I don't have bad dreams as much when you're around. It's stupid."

There was a brief pause.

"We need to talk," he said. "I've been trying to think..." He cleared his throat. "I've been trying to..."

She noticing that he was having difficulty speaking. "Are you alright?"

He cleared his throat again. "Sorry, my throat's a little dry. I've been practicing this all night, I'm probably losing my voice."

Ginger sprang into action. "I'll get you some water."

"What?" She didn't usually so much as offer to get him a stick of gum.

"I'll be right back! Wait right here!"

He watched helplessly as she left the room. "You don't have to..._Ginger_." He ran after her.

He caught her in the kitchen, pouring him a glass of water with shaking hands. She'd been grateful for the distraction, because she knew whatever he had to say couldn't be good.

"Ginger," he said. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you some water," she replied without looking at him. 

"That's...nice of you?" He expected her to tell him to shut up, but she stayed silent. "Listen, we need to-"

She turned around, not realizing how close he'd been standing to her. The glass of water collided with his chest and spilled all over his shirt.

"I'm sorry!" she shouted, accidentally dropping the glass as she fretted over the mess. The glass shattered. "I'm sorry for that too!"

"It's not your fault, I should've-"

"I'm so stupid!" she fretted. "So completely stupid-"

"You're not stupid, you just made a mistake."

She got a hand towel and tried to dry him off. "I don't know why I keep doing these things! I don't know what's wrong with me!"

"Ginger, stop! _Stop!" _He caught hold of her wrists to stop her movement. "You haven't done anything wrong. I just need to talk to you." 

She pulled away from him and put her towel down on the counter. "Alright."

He tried to find the words. This wasn't easy. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"What?"

"Breakfast. What are you in the mood for?"

"I'm not hungry."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're not hungry?"

"That's what I said."

"You're never not hungry! We're talking about breakfast! You can't survive without breakfast-"

"If you don't mind, I'd rather not sugarcoat this. I'd rather get to the point."

He understood. "Take a seat, please?" He gestured to the table. "I'll get us some water."

He joined her at the table a few seconds later with two glasses of water. He sipped his while hers remained untouched.

"So I don't remember much about what happened last night," he began.

"Probably for the best-"

"But I know I was trying to talk to you. And you said you knew what that was about."

"I thought I did. I think I completely got my wires crossed."

"What did you think I was going to say?"

"I..." She cast around for something to say that wouldn't sound stupid. "Look, you were so adamant about talking, and the way you were talking and the context in which we were talking. 'Ginger, you deserve to know...' I mean I just...I thought you felt...something. I mean, you've got to understand, I don't talk to people. The only way I can guess what people will do is if I've seen it in a movie."

He suddenly understood. "Oh. You thought I was...No, I wasn't going to say...that."

She nodded. "I completely misunderstood the situation. I thought this was what you wanted me to do."

"You did...that...because you thought that was what I wanted? Even though you had no interest in it yourself? That's not like you."

She scoffed. "Who knows what's like me? I'm less like me every day."

He decided that he couldn't handle this conversation even a moment longer. "Ginger, I need you to get your bags."

She nodded solemnly, having known this was coming. "I can pack in no time," she said, resigning herself to it. "Things got weird and totally not punk rock, so I understand."

"What?" he asked, not understanding.

"I'm sorry I made things weird," she said, awkwardly. "I was sort of freaking out. Just trying to be what I thought you wanted because, well, I'm bad at reading people's intentions I guess and I got mixed up." She got up and began backing away. "But I never fully unpack, so I'll be out of your hair in no time. I mean it's like she said, right? I don't even know you. You won't even know I'm gone. At least I know what I did wrong-"

He could see actual hurt in her eyes. He realized that he'd wounded her, even if it had been unintentionally. "Ginger," he said, standing up. "I don't want you to leave."

"Oh," she said, surprised. "You don't?"

"I want you to be here," he said. "You're my friend and I care about you. The truth is, I have less nightmares when you're around too, as strange as that is to admit. And you're fun. We're just going to have to stop it with the drugs. As in never again. It's not good for either of us. We need to start living in the world again."

She nodded. "I agree. It just seems to cause trouble. But you...don't want me to leave?"

"I just need you to get something from your bag. You still have that fob watch?"

...

Ginger met the Doctor in the infirmary a few minutes later.

"Are you going to tell me what this is about?" she asked. "Why do we have to meet in here?"

"It's just a precaution," he assured her. "There are things I haven't told you. And I've realized over the last few days that it's doing you more harm than good to be keeping them from you. I wanted to make sure you were stable and in a good place before I told you. I wanted you to be able to process it in a healthy way. But when you almost got yourself trapped in that room that the TARDIS was deleting, I realized that if you die like this I might not be able to bring you back again. Humans are so fragile. They don't regenerate. That's why I've now added a protocol I should've had all along. Now living things from rooms that are deleted are automatically deposited in the main control room. But that's not the point. After what happened last night, I just...You're not working with all the information. You should be able to know the truth about yourself before you try to move forward."

"What are you on about?" she asked, eyes wide. "What does this have to do with the fob watch?"

"When you showed me this the other day, it wasn't the first time I've seen it," he admitted. "When I was moving you in, your bag split and it fell out. So I've known for months and I didn't tell you. You'd just had a suicide attempt, and you didn't need this on your plate-"

"Have _what _on my plate? Doctor, just _tell _me!"

"Ginger, this isn't just a broken old watch," he said, taking it and showing her the markings on it. "You remember those weird symbols on the wall that you said reminded you of this?"

"The Gallifreyan ones?"

"Right. There's a reason they reminded you of this. These are also Gallifreyan symbols. It's from my home planet. So that leads me to think you're not human. Ginger, I am almost 100% sure you're Gallifreyan, like me."

"I don't understand."

"There are devices," he explained. "Devices that can be used to change someone on a genetic level. They're called Chameleon Arches, and I've used them in the past when things have gotten bad so I could hide out as a human. You said when we met that you'd always felt like an alien, are you sure you're not one in disguise?"

"It was a figure of speech," she said, bewildered. "I think I'd remember if I wasn't human. I've had enough medical tests in my life that they would've picked up on it by now. Though it _is _true that brain scans and MRIs tend to short out when I'm in them, but that's just machine error-"

"Well, actually, medical tests wouldn't be able to tell. That's what the watch is for. You store a Time Lord's memories and consciousness inside it for safekeeping while they're in disguise. They get a new set of memories in the meantime, and will only get the old ones back when the watch is opened. It has a perception filter on it which makes it seem innocuous and boring to people. That's probably what's kept it in your safekeeping for all these years."

"So..what?" she asked, beginning to pace now with her head just full of rapidly buzzing thoughts. "You trying to say that you think my life isn't real and that my real memories are stored inside a wedge just waiting to be imprinted back into me?"

"That's the gist of it, yeah," he said. "If putting it in _Dollhouse _terms helps you wrap your mind around it, then yeah."

"Why would I do that, though?" she asked. "What reason would I have to Caroline Farrell myself?"

"I'm not sure you did," he admitted. "There've been times when I've almost let myself be deluded into thinking you're someone I used to know, but...This word on the watch. Roughly translated, it means 'Refugee'. You see, when I was only a few hundred years old, the political climate on Gallifrey got bad. The people in power were really into Looming, which was a process of creating children synthetically without needing a natural birth. It was meant to breed out 'defects' that couldn't be controlled in natural birth. So natural birth went out of fashion. Not long before I decided to leave, natural birth wasn't just out of fashion, there were active groups of bigots who would go around killing children of natural birth in order to keep a pure gene pool. Not everyone could afford to keep their children safe, but those few who had access to TARDISes would Chameleon Arch their newborns and send them somewhere on Earth to have a chance at life. It's an incredibly painful and dangerous procedure which not many children could survive. But those who did were left on Earth with their fob watches with that symbol on them. You might be the first one to ever find out the truth. Did you, by any chance, have Colic as a baby?"

"Yeah, actually," she said, surprised he went there. "That's why I was in 3 foster homes before I was a year old. How did you know?"

"The process, when completed on newborns, has been linked to Colic and anxiety. Essentially the babies just can't stop crying."

"This is...completely ridiculous," she said, trying to convince herself. She took the fob watch from him and held it up to look at it. "I can't be a...I'm..."

"Just Ginger?" he teased.

"Am I Ginger, though?" she asked. "If I open this, will I be Ginger?"

"If you're asking if you'd retain your memories, yes you would," he said. "You would even if you'd consented to the procedure as an older person, except if I'm right, which I am, you would've been too young to have Gallifreyan memories. You've never heard it whisper to you?"

"No."

"That's because you were too young to have anything to implant besides simple genetics."

"All of this makes too much sense," she breathed. "It explains everything. So it's not a trick?"

"It's not a trick," he assured her. 

"How do I know for sure?"

"The only way to know for sure is to open the watch," he replied. "But it'll hurt-"

She opened it like someone ripping off a bandaid. She screamed, dropping the watch as every cell in her body started to be rewritten and her one heart became two. Her knees gave out and began to fall in slow motion. The Doctor leapt forward, catching her before she could hit the floor. He held her there until it was over.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked, stroking her hair. "I was trying to warn you that it's extremely painful. I was going to have you lie down first."

"Yeah, well," she said. "I'm not a particularly patient person and my curiosity got the better of me."

"Alright, Pandora," the Doctor said. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, I'm good." She breathed slowly, concentrating on physical sensations in her body. "Woah, that's so weird," she breathed. "I can feel my heart beat! There are two of them! But how do they both fit in there?"

"Maybe you're just bigger on the inside," he said, with a grin.

Ginger suddenly realized that he was holding her, and this was perhaps too soon for her to be comfortable with that. She started to get to her feet, but she was a bit shaky.

"Woah, woah, don't try to move so fast," he said, helping to steady her. He helped her down to sit on a cot.

"Man, my parents really put a newborn through that?" she asked.

"They probably felt it was your best option," he said. "Unfortunately there's really no concrete way of finding out who your parents were. DNA tests don't really work on Gallifreyans since we rewrite our DNA so much. Part of the deal with this kind of thing is placing a Time Lock on your history. You wouldn't be able to know unless you were contacted by someone who knew." He couldn't help but think that Cupid might know something, but now wasn't the time to say.

"Oh I'd rather not do that," she said. "I still don't really care who my parents were. I need to be me now. Completely unburdened by lineage."

"Sure, definitely," he agreed. "Do you mind if we just do some scans first? I don't mean to treat you like a specimen, but it would put my mind at ease to know that you're all systems go after the trauma of getting your DNA fully rewired." He hesitated. "I do have to admit that I've done these scans on you before. When you were unconscious after the...attempt. The only people who saw the results were me, Martha, and the TARDIS. You had some abnormalities even in human form-"

"Wait, you did scans on me?" she said, suddenly paying attention. "What sort of abnormalities?"

"I'd like to see if they pop back up when I do more scans," he said. "Cupid implied that you weren't just a Gallifreyan. If it would give you peace of mind to know more-"

She waved her arms. "Scan away, I guess." She shrugged off her hoodie.

He paused. "You know you don't have to do this if you don't want to. This isn't a condition for staying. You don't ever have to do something you don't want to do, and I want you to know that."

She smiled at him warmly. "Yeah, I think I'm beginning to."

He started to smile back when he noticed something. "Ginger. Your arms."

She looked down at the now smooth skin of her arms. "Oh wow. All my scars are gone! Guess I'm completely healed."

"We'll see," he said. "That's what the scans will tell us."

...

The Doctor performed a couple of brief tests to ensure that everything was working the way it should. He particularly focused on her head.

"Is that my brain?" she asked, staring intently at the image on the screen.

"It is," he said. "And it's looking very healthy. Last time I saw it, it was comatose."

"I've never seen my brain before," Ginger admitted. "People have tried doing brain scans but, like I said before, the machines always short out."

"I don't know why that is, but it's certainly interesting," he said. He zoomed in on part of the image. "Look at this. Your brain has completely rewired itself to be Gallifreyan, so all the human aspects have disappeared. But these structures here remain."

"What are they?"

"I don't know. I've never seen them in any being before." He pointed at one structure. "This part here seemed to be producing Artron Energy, which was repairing the damage during the last scan. That's weird enough, since humans don't produce any naturally. Even stranger is that Artron Energy is vital to powering the TARDIS. That's the fuel that we came here to get from the Rift. It looks like you've soaked it up from the Rift just like the TARDIS did. One might even say you're fully charged now. It might account for your unusual brain activity. How have you been feeling since Wales?"

"Really good," Ginger admitted. "I don't think that's quite worn off. I feel stronger, less sickly. I wonder how long it'll last."

"I don't understand why it would affect you in this way," he admitted. "I have so many questions for Cupid."

"That's really my x-ray?" Ginger asked, holding up a scan of her chest cavity as if checking for signs of photoshop. "It's not, like, some bizarre practical joke? I really have two hearts?"

"You're definitely Gallifreyan," he said. "I think your brain scans indicate that you might perhaps be a new sub-species. Something different."

"Something the Gallifreyan government would try to eradicate, I suspect," she said, thinking back to what he told her about how she ended up in this situation to begin with.

"I'm interested to see if any of these new structures account for your natural ability to read time," he said. "It stands to reason that if you're sensitive to time energy, that you might be naturally more gifted in these sorts of areas."

"You seem weirdly excited," she said, with some amusement. "What gives?"

"I'm just happy," he replied, certainly seeming so.

"Me too." She hopped down from the infirmary cot she'd been sitting on. "I always felt weird - like I was a bit of a freak - and now I understand why! I mean, I don't understand all of it, but things are beginning to make sense for the first time in my life!"

"We can figure this all out together," he assured her.

"Because I'm staying?" She needed to hear him reassure her one more time.

"Of course you're staying. The fact that we met at all resists almost all of the odds. I'm not going to let either of us be alone. We're last two Gallifreyans in all of existence, we shouldn't be alone."

She knew it was a sore subject and tried to joke about it. "Just as long as you don't get any funny repopulation ideas! Because it's not gonna happen! I mean it looks like I might be a weird sub-species. I'm probably the next stage of Time Lord evolution! You're genetically inferior and not at all suited for procreation."

He glossed right past that. "I should give you a real crash course about Gallifreyan history. Oh and the language too!"

She smiled slowly. "Alright, that sounds like fun. We can do that over breakfast?"

...

She rejoined him in the control room 15 minutes later. He was standing staring at a monitor.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked.

He jumped. He hadn't noticed her come in. "Nothing. Just clearing out the archive." That's when Ginger noticed the screen he was looking at was labelled 'Rose's Room'. He pressed the button marked 'delete'. "Moving forward."

She didn't think about it, she just took his hand and squeezed it briefly. "So food, then?"

"Yeah. Maybe IHOP?"


	36. Planet Claire

The Doctor watched Ginger eat her french toast, utterly in awe of her.

"You're taking this all...surprisingly well," he said, finally.

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked.

"I mean...for one thing, not only did you consent to medical scans, but you didn't seem at all annoyed with me that I'd done scans of you before."

"Well you were trying to help, right?"

"Right. But you're usually more reluctant about that sort of personal information. I'm just saying that I wouldn't be at all surprised if you were upset with me for keeping this from you for so long."

"I'm not angry with you."

"That's a first."

"Really, I'm not."

"You'd tell me if you were?"

She put down her fork and looked at him. "Have I ever been angry with someone and _not _immediately said so?"

"That's a fair point," he conceded.

She could see that he was still nervous. "Look, it's different because it's you, alright?"

This surprised him. "It is? How?"

She took a moment to debate herself over the best way to say this. "It's like...I know you. About as well as anyone ever knows you, I suspect. And now that I know you've got no, ah, interest in me like that, I can't see you having any nefarious reason to keep that from me. And you explained it clearly. People always keep secrets from me, but they never have a good reason or bother to explain. You did up front. And I agreed with your reasons. And, I suppose, I understand these things better now. I mean there's that whole thing with the Trickster and Alex. We haven't told Alex about that, have we? And we have our reasons for that. In this context, I can forgive you not telling me. It's just good that I know now, and that you're trying to help. Just don't make a habit of it."

"I won't," he said, hastily.

She smiled. "Look, I don't know if I...thanked you properly."

He raised his eyebrows. "Thanked me? For...?"

She swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. "For, you know, not...taking advantage. Or whatever. I know in your position, it would've been real easy to. Even if you're not interested in me like that, we were both so out of our heads...That could've ended badly for me."

He couldn't decide exactly how he felt about this. "You shouldn't thank me for that. You should know better than to thank someone for having the basic decency to treat you like a person. Honestly, it's incredibly sad that you think that what I did was in any way exceptional."

She let this sink in. "You're right. I don't know why I forgot that."

"Honestly, I should apologize to you. I don't think I did properly. For shouting at you."

It took her a moment to remember what he was taking about. "Oh that? I understand that you were under stress. We thought we were going to die-"

"That doesn't excuse it," he said. "I should've behaved better. I took it out on you. I know that it hurt your feelings-"

She scoffed. "Feelings? I don't have those-"

"Well I'm sorry anyway. I said things to you that I didn't mean and were inexcusable."

"I've said worse to you," she reminded him.

"And you've apologized," he said. "It took you a while, but you did." He suddenly realized something. "You know, it's funny. I just realized you haven't lost your temper - properly lost it, I mean - in a very long while."

"I've been trying to do better," she admitted.

"You're becoming this whole other person," he said. "As long as you remember that you don't have to be different just to keep your spot on the TARDIS. I don't want you holding back at all. Just be completely yourself."

"I mean that's sort of the problem," Ginger admitted. "I've never had a _me _to be. I play whatever role I seem to fit in whatever story I find myself in. And whenever I do act like 'myself' people don't like it so much."

"So you try to do what you think people want you to do?"

She caught his drift immediately. "Not usually. It was just because it was...you. I really am sorry about that. I misread that entire situation. I thought...Well, you know by now what I thought."

He felt compelled to ask the question that had been on his mind. "Did you..._want _me to say that? That I-"

"_No_," she said, immediately and firmly. "No, that's gross. As Fiona Apple would say, _I'm much better off the way things are_. I was just trying to do what I was supposed to do in that situation."

"In what situation?"

"What situation?" she repeated. "Oh I dunno...Just that we almost died then you told me you needed to tell me something right after we reunited. Then we got cut off and didn't have time to talk about it. Then all of a sudden it's _Valentine's _Day and everyone's telling me all sorts of confusing things and then we get hopped up on pheromones. And then when you think of that in a context of realizing that everything that came before that could be interpreted as _will-they-won't-they..._I thought that was what I was _supposed _to do. Human interactions have scripts. I was following what I thought my character was supposed to _do_."

He was disappointed but not surprised. "Yeah, I thought that might be it. You know there isn't anything you're _supposed _to do, right? If you don't feel something you don't have to act like you do."

"Well yeah, now I don't," she said. "I'm _free _now! I don't have to try to blend in with the humans! No more scripts!" This realization hit her all at once. "Wow..._No more scripts. _So many possibilities. I can be anything now! None of any of that matters because it wasn't _real, _it wasn't _me_." 

Something about this concerned him. "You know that's not entirely true-"

She took his hands. "I'm just so excited now! I think I was a bit in shock before or maybe I was trying to be cool but...I'm an _alien_!" They both looked down at their hands at the same moment and she let go of his hands. "Sorry. Got swept up in the moment. But you know what I mean? I mean, I always sort of _knew _deep down that I wasn't the same. And now I know."

"Would you like to do some more tests?" he asked. "I don't mean medical tests."

"I'm not doing standardized testing either," she said stubbornly. "I never did well on those. I have trouble focusing."

"It's not that kind of test either," he assured her.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "What did you have in mind?"

...

"I'm not doing that."

"I thought you might say that."

"A _blindfold, _Doctor? You had to know I object to this."

"You don't have to," he assured her. "It probably isn't even necessary. Your eyes may not have anything to do with your time sensitivity."

"Wait, so we're trying to measure my internal clock?" she asked.

"It's not normal," he said. "Which makes it _incredibly _interesting." He was suddenly worried. "Sorry, did that come out sounding like you're a test subject?"

"No," she laughed. "It's actually made me more interested. Okay. So your theory is it might have to do with my eyes?"

"Well, I at least have to rule it out. Your eyes are, well, not great. Which isn't a judgment! I'm only saying that it would be an interesting development if you're nearsighted but can also instinctively measure daylight or star patterns."

"I don't think that's what I do," she said. "It also works when it's raining."

"Exactly," he said. "But blindfolding would help us know for sure."

She nodded. "Alright. So we'll blindfold."

"Are you sure?"

"Before I change my mind, Doctor."

He was frozen in place for another moment before he walked to her side. "You can change your mind at any time."

"I know."

He raised the blindfold in front of her face. "And you're sure-"

"I'm sure," she insisted. "Come on, just do it already."

"Alright..." He placed the blindfold over her eyes and tied it on. "How is that?"

"Can't see a thing."

"I can take it off if it's causing you anxiety-"

"You're here with me. I'm fine."

He didn't quite know what to say to that. "Alright, so give me your hands. I'll walk in front of you and lead you out of the TARDIS."

She reached out and placed her hands in his. "I'm trusting you to not let me smack into a wall."

They walked forward slowly. 

"We're coming to the stairs," he said. "Be careful-"

She managed to trip anyway and fell right into him.

"Woah, woah, woah," he said. "I said to be careful."

She laughed. "You know I have no coordination!"

He realized that he was holding her too closely and stepped back so that he was only holding her hands. "C'mon," he said. "Just a few more steps." He led her out of the doors and into a field. "Alright. We're in a field in Scotland. Can you tell me what time it is?"

"10:59 PM," she said, confidently. 

He took off the blindfold. "Incredible," he said. "Absolutely right on the dot!"

"So it's not my eyes, then?"

"You seem to have an internal chronometer of some type."

"Chronometer? I mean, etymologically, I can figure out the Greek, but please explain?"

"It's an instrument that's responsible for keeping track of time that can't be swayed by variables like motion or temperature. I'd like to try another test, if you don't mind?"

She grinned. "This is starting to get fun."

...

"Ever been to China before, Ginger?"

Ginger looked around at the various wares at the outdoor market they'd found themselves in. "Do you really need me to answer that?"

"Alright," he grinned. "So what time is it?"

"Noon," she said, confidently.

"Fascinating," was his reply.

She crossed her arms and waited for his reply. "Why is that fascinating?"

"We're in Xinjiang," he said. "Official clocks say that it's 3 PM."

She shook her head. "That doesn't make sense! It's noon. I'm never wrong."

"You're not technically wrong," he said. "What this indicates to me is that you don't measure based on what humans say time is. You're measuring based on solar time and planetary rotation. It _is _noon, technically. The only reason the clocks say differently is that the Chinese government insists they follow Beijing time. It's not the only example of this in the world. There are plenty of places on Earth where time zones aren't dictated by logic but are instead set by politics. Which leads us to a potential third test."

"Third test?"

...

"Welcome to Thebius 3!" he said, spreading his arms wide. "Oxygen rich atmosphere, five distinct seasons, and sparkling seas of deep lilac water! But let's get to the point, shall we? What time is it?"

She opened her mouth to confidently answer, but then stopped. Confusion washed over her like a wave. "It's on the tip of my tongue. No, I mean it! Like I know it, it's just like...when you forget a word. It's there but I can't make it come out."

"Fascinating."

"Does that mean anything to you?"

"I'm not sure."

"Maybe if you tell me more about this planet?"

"Well the locals measure time very similarly to Earth time," he said. "It's called something different, of course, but it's still measured by planetary rotation. Of course one day on Thebius 3 is 49 hours."

It suddenly clicked. "Oh! It's 35:08!" She noticed the way he was looking at her. "What?"

"You didn't understand it because the days were longer. You could instinctively feel that there was some cultural difference that you were missing out on and you needed context before you could understand how to translate it properly. Because that's absolutely right, you're right."

She was very pleased with herself. "So I can put this on my audition tape for the X-Men?"

He laughed. "One more test. Then we'll see."

...

The Doctor put the TARDIS on hover mode and turned to Ginger. "Ready?"

"Where are we?" she asked. She began running toward the doors. "Oh wait! Let me guess!"

"Wait, wait, let me bring up the oxygen field-"

She threw open the door at the exact moment that the oxygen field came online, so that she didn't suffocate when she stared at the view of Earth from space.

"Woah," she breathed.

He stepped up behind her. "Wanna go out there?"

She turned to look at him and nodded excitedly. "Don't I need a space suit, though?"

"Oxygen field is up," he grinned. "Just try not to float away. Take it slowly-"

"I won't float away!" She jumped right out into space.

"Ginger," he laughed. "Be _careful._"

"Right," she rolled her eyes. "That's gonna happen."

He watched her float for a few seconds before shaking himself out of it. "Alright, what time is it?"

She laughed. "Time for the final test, I guess."

"No, but really," he said. "What time is it?"

She considered it. "It...isn't?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it is but it isn't!" She shook her head. "I know this doesn't make sense."

"Try saying it more slowly. Give yourself time to process."

"This is so weird," she said softly. "I feel so...connected to time. I guess I always did, sorta, but now..."

"You're Gallifreyan now. You're more attuned to time than you ever were before. What is it like?"

"When I try to feel what time it is here...It feel different. It feels like _a place. _I can almost picture it on a map if I close my eyes...And now I realize that time always felt like that, I just didn't understand...It doesn't feel like time exists out here in a way that I've been trained to understand. It sort of just..." She closed her eyes. "Flows through me...I can feel all of it..." She opened her eyes and noticed the way he was looking at her. "What?"

"Nothing," he said. "I've never seen anyone process time the way that you do. But I've seen a TARDIS do it. You, Ginger, process time like a TARDIS."

"What do you mean?"

"Not sure," he said. "I'm not sure what you are, but I know that I'm interested to know more."

She laughed. "Alright, science officer Doctor." She beckoned to him. "Come join me out here."

He was tempted. "Someone should stay behind in the ship...Just in case..."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, then. I see how it is." She shoved herself backwards. 

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well you won't come out here," she said. "But if you don't come out here then I'm gonna float away!"

"Ginger, that's dangerous, you could suffocate-"

She sped back further. "Well you'd better come catch me, then!"

He glanced between her and the TARDIS interior before giving in and tossing himself out into space. "Satisfied?" he asked.

She nodded. "Wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Why'd you want me to be out here anyway?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Thought it would be fun." She pointed at the Earth. "What's all that stuff?"

He floated closer to her. "Space debris," he said. "Results from space missions. Defunct satellites, bits of metal..."

"Humans even manage to pollute space," Ginger said, shaking her head. "Amazing." She decided to ignore this. She flashed him a smile and took his hand. "Come on. This floating thing is kind of fun." She starting humming a song. "_Leave me no time to reconsider..."_

"Just try-"

"Not to float away," she said, pulling him by the hand. "I've got it, I've got it. No promises though." She began singing and spun in place. 

_"I'm Queen of the world  
I bump into things  
I spin around in circles  
And I'm singing, and I'm singing I'm singing  
Why can't I stay like this?  
Dear God.  
Oh let me be young  
Let me stay, please, let me stay like this forever..."_

The Doctor found himself once again enchanted by her singing and unable to look away. He couldn't help but notice that the Earth-light made her hair look like fire. He wondered if she had always been this beautiful or if he just wasn't used to seeing her happy. 

He caught himself having these thoughts and instantly felt guilty. "We should go back inside," he said.

"Oh just a few more minutes!" she pleaded.

He looked back toward the TARDIS. "We've gotten a little farther away than I would've liked," he said. "We're probably nearing the end of our oxygen shield."

She sighed. "Fine. We can go back in."

They started floating back toward the TARDIS. "Careful," he said.

"I know, I know," was her reply. But no sooner had the words come out of her mouth before she was struck by a piece of space debris and pulled away from the Doctor.

"Ginger!" he called to her. She was rapidly falling away from him, gaining speed. It was clear that she was free-falling out of control with nowhere to land in the vacuum of space and getting dangerously close to falling out of the air shield.

"I can't stop!" she shouted. "I'm trying-"

He propelled himself forward and tried to catch her, but she collided into him and knocked him into a spiral as well.

"Hang on to me!" he said. "Maybe we can slow down enough to steady ourselves!" They gripped each other's arms but it didn't seem to be helping. The Doctor reached into his pocket and got the sonic, using it to direct the TARDIS toward them. It raced forward and they fell into its open doors in a motion not unlike a whale swallowing krill.

They fell to the floor as the TARDIS doors closed behind them. They were still clinging to each other. The Doctor sat up first and checked her over. "Are you alright?" He examined her extremities. "No visible signs of frostbite or oxygen depletion-"

"Sorry," Ginger said sheepishly, sitting up as well. "Almost got us killed again. Should've been more careful."

"Yeah, but I can't blame you for being curious."

"Not gonna yell at me?" she asked, surprised. "You were right, you should've stayed in the TARDIS. I coulda got us both killed."

"It's alright," he said. "I've done more dangerous things than that." He helped her to her feet. "So! Where to now?"

She grinned at him. "So I take it that we're done with tests?"

He nodded. "For the moment."

She leaned against the console as he began flipping switches. "Can we go do some dangerous, potentially life-threatening world-saving?"

"What, on purpose?" he asked. "We usually just find that by accident!"

"But I'm an activist!" she said. "Not a very good one, but it's aspirational! Why let the trouble find us? We can find it for once!"

...

Ginger and the Doctor had just finished up saving the world in 1978 with the help of three stragglers they'd met along the way. Now that the Earth had been saved from the extra terrestrial threat, Ginger had time to really look at them.

"Wait," Ginger said. "Don't I know you?"

"I don't think so," the blonde said. "I'm pretty sure we'd remember."

"What did you say your names were?" the Doctor asked.

"Fred," the man said.

"Schneider," Ginger finished for him, coming to the sudden realization.

"Cindy," the blonde said.

"Wilson," Ginger said, then turning to the brunette. "Which makes you Kate Pierson?"

"Yeah," the brunette said, surprised. "How did you know?"

Ginger and the Doctor exchanged surprised looks. "Oh my _God."_

"Far out! You're the B-52's!" Ginger said, excitement rising. "The actual honest-to-God, B-52's!"

"You know of us?" Fred asked.

"Absolutely!" the Doctor replied.

"You don't understand," Ginger said. "Your music has been _such _a gift to us!"

"There's not a day that goes by that we don't bond over at least one of your songs! And not just the alien-themed ones either!"

"We don't even have an album out yet," Cindy said. "How do you know us?"

Ginger laughed in disbelief. "When I come from, you're extremely famous."

"Did you just say 'when'?" asked Kate.

"Maybe," she grinned.

"We're from the future, sort of," the Doctor said.

"Alien time travelers," Ginger said.

"That honestly explains so much about you," Cindy said.

"What planet are you from?" asked Fred.

"Are you a Martian?" Cindy asked.

"Why does everyone always think that?" the Doctor asked.

"Like we have big brainy heads full of green goo," Ginger agreed.

"So where are you from?" asked Kate.

Ginger laughed again. "Planet Claire," she joked.

"I like that," Fred replied, evidently not realizing it was a joke. "Could make a song out of that. _She came from Planet Claire..._"

The Doctor and Ginger both simultaneously felt their jaws drop.

"Yeah," the Doctor said, nodding. "You should definitely write that song."

"Tell us more about this planet," Fred asked.

"Well," Ginger said, exchanging a look of disbelief with the Doctor. "Planet Claire has pink air..."

"All the trees are red," the Doctor said.

"Far out!" said Kate.

"Oh my God," Ginger whispered. "Jack is gonna _freak _when I tell him about this!"

"He's definitely going to lose his mind!" the Doctor whispered back.

...

"Well that was fun," the Corsair said, getting up to get dressed.

"Which time?" asked Jack.

"I really need to be going now. I'll call you."

Jack followed her as she walked out towards the living room, collecting the trail of clothing she'd discarded along the way.

"So," Jack said. "Three nights in a row. This is becoming a pattern for you."

"I meant to ask," she said, completely ignoring him. "How's Alex been?"

The real world suddenly came crashing down on him. "She'll be fine," he said. "Just broke up with her girlfriend on Valentine's. She's processing. I'm actually heading over there tonight. It'll be good for her to get out of the house. I'd invite you too, but my invitation said 'no plus ones'."

"Invitation?" the Corsair asked. "Invitation to what?"

Jack walked over to his desk and pulled a little piece of laminated paper from a drawer.

"This came in the mail just after you left Tuesday," he explained.

"A coming out party?" asked Corsair, looking at the picture of a big green alien on the front.

"A real proper bacchanalia. Ginger's, apparently. Which is funny, because I know she doesn't like parties. But, you know, it's about time she came out. Been expecting it for months."

"I don't understand this timeline," Corsair replied, shaking her head. "I've never seen anything like this. I don't know what it could mean."

"Don't think too hard about it," Jack shrugged. "It's probably a low-key thing."

"Just keep an eye on them," the Corsair insisted. "Make sure they stay in the friend zone."

"Ginger doesn't _have _a friend zone," Jack teased. "She'd resent the accusation that she cares about anyone."

"Jack-"

"Why are you so worried about them anyway?" he asked. "And please, no more cryptic answers."

"I'm afraid that's our time for today," the Corsair said. "Now. Do your best to cock block, would you?"

...

Jack opened the blinds. "Afternoon, sunshine," he said, peering down at the bed where Alex was still lying.

"Go away," she said, rolling over. "I've said I'm fine, I just want to sleep."

"Yeah? Well you've been practically in a coma since the other day, and I'm not saying that you don't deserve some time for mourning but we're needed today."

She groaned. "It's a little late to get me to school," she complained. "Class will have let out already and I called in sick this morning."

"Not talking about school," he said. "Did you not look at your invitation I gave you?"

"Not really," she said. "Which invitation is that?"

He picked it up off the bedside table where it had evidently been untouched. "Ginger's coming out bacchanal. It's tonight. We're expected."

She groaned again. "I don't feel like a party," she said. "Also, who has a party on a Thursday night?"

"I imagine Ginger will say something about it being a protest against capitalism reserving frivolity for the weekend."

"That does sound like her," she admitted. "Anyway, I'm not going. I'm not in any shape."

"Normally, I'd let you sit this one out," Jack said. "But this is Ginger's coming out party. I don't know anything, but I imagine they haven't invited many people. Sure she could have any historical figure come, but when she says a party she only means a few people so she can't get overwhelmed by big crowds of strangers. You and I are the only two people we know who got invited. So that makes me guess that if you don't come then I will be the only person there. Plus, you should really be there to support her. Don't you want to be there for the moment when she finally admits that she's gay? We've waited so long."

"Alright," Alex grumbled. "Alright, okay? You make a good case and morbid curiosity is getting the best of me. But what should I wear?" She sat up and looked at him. "Or better yet, what is that _you're _wearing?"

He was wearing a sequined jacket over a rainbow Pride shirt and rainbow sequin trousers.

"It's on theme," he said. "And you will be too. Let's get you in some flannel."

...

They waited in Sarah Jane's garden just after nightfall, breath curling into clouds in the cold February air.

"I hope they hurry," Alex said, shivering.

Just then, the TARDIS began to materialize. They waited patiently while the Doctor came to the door.

"Look at the state of you two!" he complained. "You're not at all dressed for this occasion!"

"What's that you're wearing, then?" Alex asked, raising her eyebrows.

"It's called a t-shirt and jeans, Alexia," he said, exasperated.

"I more meant what's that on your head?"

And it was on theme. On that day, the Doctor was wearing black jeans, a black shirt with a green alien on it, and a black leather jacket. The best part of this ensemble was a green top hat with a black ribbon upon which little green men were painted.

"It's on theme," he said. "Which is more than I can say for either of you."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked. "I'll have you know I got _this _shirt at New York City Pride!"

"And I'm wearing flannel!" Alex protested. "What more could you want?"

"You're just so clueless, it's laughable," the Doctor shook his head. "So Ginger was right. The invitations were too vague. Oh well, in any case, I prepared for this and laid out some alternate clothes for you."

...

"Doc, what's going on here?" Alex asked, as they entered the holodeck. "I'm starting to get the idea that there's an alien theme."

The holedeck had been transformed for this occasion into a small, dingy ballroom. Every square inch of the place was decked out in chrome, with various spots of blue and green fabrics. Hanging around in clumps were green balloons with little black alien faces drawn on in sharpie.

"I think I'll let Ginger explain," he said. "But that reminds me - I've got to go fetch her. She's got to make a dramatic entrance and I'm so excited to show her what I did with the holodeck! Oh, almost forgot! Put on your party hats!"

He stuck tin foil hats on both of their heads and skipped off.

"Alright, I think it's time to ask what the _hell _is going on," Alex said, mystified.

...

The Doctor knocked on Ginger's door. "Alright, everyone's here, are you ready?"

She opened the door and stepped out into the light. "Obviously!"

He looked her over, a slow grin spreading over his face. "Someone had fun with the theme, I see."

"I've been waiting all my life for this theme," she said, seriously. "And now I get to embrace it."

He pulled a length of green ribbon from his jacket pocket.

"What's that for?" she asked, curiously.

"Blindfolding you," he said, simply. "So you can have the dramatic reveal when you see what I've done with the holodeck."

"You're not blindfolding me," she said, crossing her arms.

"You still don't trust me?"

"That's not it," she said. "It took me 15 minutes to get my eye makeup right."

"Fair enough." Then he had an idea. "Give me your glasses."

...

The Doctor came back into the room and started the music with a dramatic flourish. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he shouted. "Nighttime has stopped! Bring on the aliens!" He slid out of the way like a disco dancer as Ginger entered. "May I present: Ginger!"

Alex and Jack saw the theme obviously applied to her as well. She was wearing a green shimmery tube top and matching short skirt. Her customary leggings were black and covered with little green men, and her customary boots were replaced with black go-go boots with green aliens on them as well. She was also wearing a purple pleather jacket and a headband that made it look as if she had alien antennae springing from her head. Her eyes were rimmed with bright green makeup that matched her lipstick.

"And now, Ginger, may I present to you - the world!" The Doctor replaced her glasses on her head and she gasped, looking around in wonder at the tacky design.

"It's beautiful," she said. "It's completely hideous, but in that way I like. I love it! I would cry, but-"

"Your eye makeup took 15 minutes," he finished for her.

She smiled at him and then noticed Jack and Alex. She hurried forward to greet them. "You came!" she grinned. "I love your hats! So retro!"

"I like your necklace," Alex said. "What is that anyway? Like an alien embryo?"

"Hm?" She reached up and clutched it. "Oh this thing? Doc made it for me ages ago. It's not really on theme, I just like it."

"It looks a like a Sour Patch Kid," Jack said.

"Her name is Candy," Ginger replied. "Oh but look at you two! Alex, that Nasa t-shirt is amazing! And Jack, embracing the whole 80s shoulder pad look in green leather!"

"That's not so impressive," the Doctor said. "Take a look at my jacket." He turned around to show everyone the green alien that had been bedazzled on the back.

Ginger squealed. "That is so _cool_! I'm almost-"

"Jealous?" he smirked. "Yeah I knew this is your style. So it's my coming out gift to you, when the party's over. Speaking of the party, have you seen the buffet table yet?"

They walked over and Ginger gasped. "Alien pancakes?" The Doctor had used food coloring to make green pancakes shaped like alien heads and had used chocolate chips to make the face. "They're _p__erfect_! And cosmic brownies! Props for using Moon Pies - I'm not a big fan of them, but they're on theme so I approve!"

"What's going on here?" Alex asked. "I'm so confused."

Ginger exchanged an excited look with the Doctor.

"Not before we have something to toast with," the Doctor said.

"Doc, did you get Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters?" Ginger asked.

"I've told you before, you wouldn't like that. But there is something I know you _will _like." He pulled a bottle from under the table and popped the cork. He started pouring drinks for all of them.

"Wine?" Alex asked, when he handed her a glass.

"Don't be silly," the Doctor said. "Ginger doesn't like wine. She only sips it to make herself seem grown up, like when she orders a coffee instead of a cocoa. This is sparkling grape juice."

Ginger squealed excitedly. "I _love _sparkling grape juice!"

He gazed at her fondly. "I know."

"Is someone going to tell us what's going on?" Alex asked, exasperated.

"Can I tell them now?" Ginger asked, hopping up and down.

"Go ahead," the Doctor encouraged.

"The great poet Brandon Flowers once posed an existential question for the ages," Ginger said, evidently having practiced this speech. "He asked, 'are we human or are we dancer?' I, like so many of my contemporaries, have waited on my knees looking for the answer. And now, after roughly 23 years of searching, I have found it. The great truth is...I am not human. Nor am I dancer, as it happens."

"You may have noticed," the Doctor said. "That I gave the two of you tin foil hats and garb that is indicative of space obsessed humanity. It is in this way that I hoped to subtly create two groups."

Ginger looked at him, eyes wide. "Oh my God, why didn't I think of that? That's genius!"

"Skip ahead to the part where you tell us what's happening," Alex said, impatiently.

Ginger laughed excitedly. "Those of you with the tin foil hats are humans! Which makes the Doctor and I aliens. This is my way of coming out...as an alien."

"An illegal alien?" Jack asked.

"I mean, that too," she rolled her eyes. "Guess who just found out she's not human!" She pointed at her chest with her thumbs. "This girl!"

"What?" Jack and Alex said together.

Ginger pulled a pocket watch from her jacket. "This fob watch was left on me by my birth parents when they abandoned me! I always joked that maybe it was some secret language telling me I'm a 'certified prince', but this is better!"

"The letters are Gallifreyan," the Doctor said. "I knew instantly. That's part of a machine that converts Time Lords to humans. If you open the watch, you revert back to Time Lord biology."

"That's the Cliff Notes version, yeah," Ginger grinned.

"You know, this all makes too much sense," Jack said. "It explains everything about you."

"Well, not everything," said the Doctor. "We think she might at least be higher up on the evolutionary chain than I am, but we're not certain."

"But you're a Time Lord-"

Ginger and the Doctor both cringed.

"Oooh no, I don't know about that," Ginger said.

"Sorry, is Time Lady the preferred term?" Jack asked.

"Time Person?" Alex offered. "Or maybe simply 'Gallifreyan'?"

"No, no, it's not about the terminology," the Doctor said.

"I just don't know that I'm ready to identify as something yet," Ginger said.

"Oh this again," Jack rolled his eyes. "You're having a coming out party and you're not ready to identify."

"I'm just not sure I want to be part of a group," Ginger said. "I never really felt human, true. But even now when I feel close to understanding my heritage, I don't quite think I fit. Earth didn't want me, but Gallifrey didn't either. I might decide one day to identify as one or the other, but for now I'd like to be an individual. No alliances. Impartial. Just Ginger, but if you must then you can call me an alien."

"Alright, so it's time to toast!" the Doctor said, raising his glass. "On the count of 3, everyone say 'Astro Projector'!"

Jack and Ginger giggled as they said the phrase and clinked glasses with the others, but Alex was just confused. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Jack, you're culturally neglecting this child," Ginger chastised him. "Not knowing her B-52's!"

"Speaking of the B-52's!" the Doctor said. "Jack, did we tell you we met them recently?"

"And you didn't invite me?" Jack said, indignantly. "Some ally you are!"

"The song Planet Claire is about me," Ginger giggled, proudly.

"There is no _way _that's true," he said.

"And on that note, it's time for another surprise!" the Doctor said. "Ginger, while you weren't looking I lined up some musical entertainment for the night!"

"What, like I'm suddenly not good enough?" she teased.

"You're gonna like this," he assured her. He rushed across the room to a stage where a few microphones were set up. "I got the perfect band to perform at your coming out party."

"Queen?" Alex asked.

"If this were a gay coming out party, then I 100% would," the Doctor said. "But since this is an alien coming out party, I asked our good friends the B-52's to join us!"

"You realize that would also be a good band for a gay coming out party, right?" Jack asked.

"Be that as it may," the Doctor said. "Ginger, I knew no party of yours would be complete without a little 80s or 90s entertainment! This band I'm presenting to you tonight is an 80s band, yes, but I plucked them right from 1998 so they count as both!"

He hopped off the stage as the band came on. "How's everyone doing tonight?" Kate Pierson asked.

"How did you do this?" Ginger asked the Doctor, in awe.

"They owed us," the Doctor said. "And Kate said she'd do it for you."

"I could cry."

"Don't be silly," he said. "You'll ruin your eye makeup."

"And you're not going to tell anyone, right?"

"What? That you hadn't even heard of the B-52's until Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed? I'd never reveal your eternal shame. Unless you provoked me in front of Jack, then maybe."

"Oh God, if he found out I'd lose all credibility!" she said in mock despair, not quite pulling it off because she couldn't stop smiling.

"This first song is for our biggest fan," Fred said, from the stage now that the instruments had been set up. "In 1978, Ginger saved the world and gave us the idea for one of our biggest hits. This is for you."

The first chords of 'Planet Claire' began, and Ginger looked smugly at Jack. "What did I tell you?"

"I guess you did," Jack said. "Hey, I've got it! You don't want to be Gallifreyan or human! Why don't you be from Planet Claire?"

"You're a genius," she said. "Completely brilliant!"

"Oh no," Jack said.

"What?" asked Alex, alarmed.

"What's this strange feeling?" he asked, beginning to move his arms. "I think it's the urge to dance!"

"Please don't," Alex said, trying not to laugh.

But it was too late, he was already dancing. He turned to Ginger. "Come on, Debbie, Queen of the Underground, won't you come in for a landing?"

"You know that song is about Debbie Harry, right?" Ginger laughed out loud.

"It's applicable," he grinned. "Come on, I'm trying to tell you to dance that mess around!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a spin.

"Alright, alright!" she said. "Just this once! Because it's the B-52's! Doc's gotta dance too!"

"Way ahead of you!" he replied, dancing past them.

...

Jack took a break from dancing when 'Summer of Love' was playing and joined Alex back by the drinks.

"So how's it going, kiddo?" he asked.

"You know," she said, shaking her head. "If this were a party for literally anything else, this would be the saddest thing ever. Tacky theme, weird choice of snacks, and only 4 people. But I've honestly never seen the two of them so happy." She nodded her head at the Doctor and Ginger. "So it's...kind of the best party I've ever been to? I'm actually pretty glad I came. Something about them being so happy...and the music being so happy...it's kind of...contagious? I don't know how to explain it."

"Yeah," Jack said, still looking at the Doctor and Ginger. "The two of them are actually not that bad together, are they?"

"They're kinda cute," Alex said. "Why are you being weird, though?"

Just then, the song ended and Cindy Wilson stepped up to the microphone. "Now we open it up to any requests by the lady of the hour! Ginger, is there anything you'd like to hear tonight?"

Ginger was gasping for air - she hadn't done this much dancing even when she was in musical theatre. "Hallucinating Pluto!" she said, after a moment's deliberation.

"Groovy!" Kate said, as they launched into it.

"Alex, come on up here!" Ginger shouted, beckoning to her. "Dance with us!"

"Oh I don't-"

"Me neither, but it's the B-52's and you're a gay so you're not too cool for this! Come on now!"

She shook her head, bemused. "Fine," she threw her hands up in surrender. "But I don't know the words."

"This chorus is simple, you'll figure it out."

...

After that song, the band started playing 'Private Idaho' and Ginger had to finally take a break to get a drink. Alex went with her and they both chuckled at seeing the Doctor and Jack still out there dancing like idiots.

"So what's next?" Alex asked.

"Whatcha mean?"

"I mean for you. You've just found out you're an alien and you're suddenly fine with everything? You gonna try to find your parents? Get some answers?"

"I've got my answers," she said, simply. "I was an unwanted baby shipped here because I was born in a stigmatized way. I don't really need to know my parents beyond that fact. That doesn't feel relevant to me. I just want to live my life, unburdened with some parental expectation of me." She took a swig from a bottle of water. "God, it's hot in here." She took off her jacket and put it on the table. That's when Alex noticed it.

"Your scars," she said. "They're gone."

"Yeah, pretty neat, eh?" Ginger grinned. "Happened when my biology reset itself. Now I'm all healed."

"And I've just noticed," Alex peered closer at her. "Your hair is longer again. It's been 3 days for me, how long's it been for you that you're out here lookin' a bit Shirley Manson?"

Ginger's eyes got wide. "Wait, did you just reference Garbage?"

"Yeah, might've done," she shrugged. "What of it? You and Doc do all the time, why shouldn't I?"

"Because you've never shown an interest in that kind of stuff," Ginger said.

"I might've gotten to looking recently into some of the bands you talk about," she admitted. "I was bored. Needed something new. I don't really understand all of it, but I did really like Garbage."

"I've literally never been more impressed with you."

"I actually have a question, though. What is it with all the 80s and 90s stuff? Why do you like those years better than anything else?"

"That's a tricky question," Ginger admitted. "I like 80s because it was like THE era of LGBT music and it's just comforting to think back to a time when I wasn't alive yet so have no bad memories. Like you've got the B-52's who are so fun and quirky that you don't have to pretend to be cool."

"But the 90s? I've noticed that's, like, your entire thing. I was born in 98 so I don't remember the 90s at all."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard," Ginger said, sympathetically. "And I once watched a YouTube clip of Ashlee Simpson singing at the Orange Bowl. Oh I shouldn't joke, that was mean. Sure it was a terrible performance, but I'm convinced they made her do that show just to humiliate her, poor thing."

"But the 90s?" Alex reminded her.

"Oh right, got off track. I don't know what it is, really, because my life was never really..Things were still hard for me in the 90s, but I didn't understand any of it. I just completely immersed myself in the culture. It was comforting. It kept me distracted from all the things that went wrong. After 9/11, the world completely changed. Started having to face things. It's always been much easier just to exist in the 90s."

"Maybe that's where you're from," Alex said. "Not from Earth or Gallifrey, but from the 90s."

"I like the way you think, kid," Ginger said. "So how are you, anyway?"

"I'm good," Alex lied.

"Sure you are," Ginger said. "Have you not heard from Kira?" Alex shrugged, so Ginger sighed. "I'm sorry about that. I feel like, maybe, I'm partially responsible for that."

Alex was surprised. "You? Why?"

"Back when I was human, I used to say all kinds of melodramatic emo stuff. I'm not saying all of it was untrue, but most of it was not applicable to you. It was unfair for me to assume that the things that are true for me would be in any way helpful to you. And I hope you didn't take any of it as advice. I was mixed up back then, and I regret if I planted doom and gloom ideas in your head."

Alex thought about this. "I appreciate that. And actually, I've been thinking about it. I really care a lot about Kira. So so so much. But I don't know if we're right for each other. We're just really different people. I'd just hate to lose her as a friend just because of this."

"Then I guess you should talk to her about it."

"Alright!" Fred said, breaking them from their conversation. "Last song of the evening!"

They began playing 'Love Shack'.

"But not now!" Ginger said, pulling Alex back onto the dance floor. "You've gotta dance along to this one!"

Alex laughed. "Believe it or not, I actually know some of the words to this one."

"I'd be worried if you didn't!"

...

The song reached its last verse.

_"Bang, bang, bang on the door baby!"_

_"I can't hear you!"_

_"Bang, bang, bang, on the door, baby!"_

"I still can't hear you!" Fred shouted. "You know what, I think something's missing! We need another voice, or it won't be loud enough!"

"I think you're right, Fred," Kate said. "We can't do this alone!"

"My voice is nearly shot!" Cindy despaired. "I don't think I'll be able to sing the tin roof part!"

"Ginger, why don't you come up and help us?" Kate asked.

"Me?" Ginger asked, laughing in disbelief. "I can't possibly."

"Ginger, you're our only hope!" Fred pleaded.

She shook her head, grinning from ear to ear. "Alright! Yeah, I'll do it!"

"Groovy!" Cindy said. "Get up here!"

"All together now, ladies!" Fred said, as Ginger too her place by Kate's microphone.

_"Bang, bang, bang on my door, baby! Bang bang!" _Ginger sang with the other two girls.

_"On the door, baby!"_

_"Bang bang!"_

_"On the door!"_

_"Bang bang!"_

_"You're what?"_

Now it was Ginger's turn. _"TIN ROOF! Rusted!"_

...

The Doctor and Jack took the B-52's back to 1998 while Alex got started eating pancakes. Ginger still had too much energy, so she was dancing to random music that played overhead. The holodeck was synced to her, so it was just playing her kind of jams.

"It's weird seeing you so happy," Alex teased. "You might want to tone it down a bit. It's getting creepy."

"Gotta get all my happy out now," Ginger did a twirl. "Then I'll be normal again."

"You've never exactly been normal," Jack said as he and the Doctor returned.

"Alright," Alex said. "Before Doc and Ginger start snogging, I think we need to get home. Got school in the morning."

"So you're feeling up to going tomorrow?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm not 100% yet, but I think I'm feeling a lot better."

"This was actually pretty cool for a lame party," Jack said.

"Yeah," Ginger agreed. "I'm sorry I gave you no real notice about it. I just wanted to get it out of the way and, well, I don't think capitalism should be able to tell us we can't have a party on a Thursday night."

"Told you," Jack said to Alex.

"Can I ask a question, actually?" Alex said to Ginger and the Doctor. She gestured to the various decorations. "Isn't all this vaguely offensive to you guys? Like a negative stereotype? Especially for you, Ginger, who is annoyed by literally everything."

Ginger and the Doctor exchanged a look. "Nah, not really," they said, together.

"It would bother me more if it weren't such a cute aesthetic, honestly," Ginger shrugged. "Maybe that makes me problematic, but I can't help but dig it."


	37. Bottomfeeder

Ginger looked through her closet. "What do they wear?" she called out of the open door. She received no reply. "HELLO! Idiot boy! What do they _wear_?" 

The Doctor poked his head into the room. "Blimey, you've got a set of lungs on you! Bet they could hear that all the way on Clom!"

"It's called _projecting!" _she shot back. "Habit of my theatre training. And if I was so loud, why didn't you answer the first time?"

He ignored this. "I've still got ringing in my ears!" he complained, though he had no such thing. "You should have a shouting match with my last companion. I always thought Donna could shout, but you could give her a run for her money." A brief sadness settled over him as he remembered Donna, but he quickly shook it off before Ginger could notice.

"Not your companion," Ginger reminded him. "And anyway, with these theatre lungs I can shout down anyone." She tilted her head to the side as she acknowledged that this wasn't strictly true. "_Well_, except opera singers. Opera singers are on a whole other level."

He smiled and leaned against the door frame. "Did you have a question?" 

She clapped her hands. "Right! Earthlings of this century. What do they wear?"

"What does it matter?" he asked. He gestured to the red-and black checkered top and black skinny jeans she was wearing. "You look fine in that." He realized that he'd said something that might accidentally be misconstrued. "I mean...What I mean to say is..." She raised her eyebrows and gave him a look that seemed to say: _This will be good. _She crossed her arms and waited. This only made him more nervous. "I mean that's alright. We don't need to worry so much about blending, not that that's ever been a top priority for you."

She smiled and turned back to the closet. "I know. It just feels weird not to consider the fashion. My old drama teacher made me sort of a fanatic for proper period-appropriate costuming. I only just realized that that only applies to Earth's _past _\- or, at least, what would be considered the past from a 21st century vantage point. What would they wear in the 31st century?" She grimaced. "_Please _don't tell me they've gone all chrome. I can dig a future-y aesthetic as much as the next humanoid, but it washes me out."

...

Ginger and the Doctor stood at the edge of a gleaming city.

"Oooh lookit," she teased, grabbing his arm. "It's all space-age and stuff!"

"You laugh, but technically you're right," the Doctor said. "Earth is a spacefaring species by this point in history."

"It's just very shiny," she said. "Probably means it's very fucked up."

"Oi!" he protested. "Don't be so negative, we've only just arrived!"

"You said the same thing _before _we arrived," she reminded him. "I'm just saying...very Emerald City. Except all silver. Would that make it a silver city?"

"Isn't that a real city?" the Doctor asked.

"What?"

"Silver City?"

She shrugged. "Beats me. Let's go!"

...

They ventured into the city, enjoying the various sights and sounds that they found there. 

"What's going on over there?" Ginger asked, pointing to a large group of people gathered by the bay.

"Should we find out?" he asked.

A wicked smile crossed her face. "I hope it's an angry mob. I love an angry mob."

"Yeah, until you're on the wrong end of it," he reminded her.

"Even then," she said.

"You really need to stop getting us chased by mobs," he said. "I swear you do that on purpose at this point."

"Doctor, I'm offended that you didn't know already that I completely do that on purpose."

"Well that's all the confirmation I needed," he said. "From now on, no more trips to the past. Part of the reason we're here today is that the 31st century isn't really big on the angry mobs."

"On the one hand: Disappointing. On the other: I _really _hope you jinxed it."

They made it almost to the crowd when they heard some familiar voices in the alley to their right.

"-Completely irresponsible!" the Corsair was hissing. "Making contact without prior authorization!"

"I don't answer to you," Cupid replied, unruffled and cheerful as ever. "And even if I did, I've told you that we have no reason to worry!"

"We always have reasons to worry! Time is running out!"

"We have plenty of time. I have faith in this one."

"You always say that."

"But this time it's grounded on fact. This one is different. Everything is changing accordingly."

"Exactly! It's too unpredictable! If I just knew what the variable was-"

"Anything we can help with?" the Doctor asked.

It was obvious that he'd startled them both.

"Doctor!" the Corsair said. "How're you...I mean, _what're _you doing here?"

"Whatever he feels like," Ginger said, crossing her arms.

The Corsair turned back to Cupid. "Have they ever been here before?"

"Not to my knowledge," Cupid replied. "But you know my knowledge gets a little spotty after the End."

The Corsair threw her hands in the air. "See! This is what I mean!"

"Is this something we can help you with?" the Doctor repeated.

"No, my dear boy, no," Cupid assured him. "We've been having the same argument for several hundred years. We're very close to having an answer."

"I didn't realize you two knew each other," Ginger said. 

"Of course we do, of course we do," said Cupid. "We went to school together."

She looked at Cupid. "So you're...Gallifreyan too?" She couldn't say why this question felt so important to her.

The Corsair sighed. "Did he _say _that? You always jump to conclusions! Maybe you should try not immediately assuming things, especially when they're none of your business in the first place."

Ginger found herself becoming increasingly annoyed with the Corsair. "So what's this argument about?"

"She likes arguing," the Doctor said, apologetically.

"It's the only sport that's worth anything," she said brusquely. "So. Arguing. What about? I'm riveted."

"My dear, you're already helping so much," said Cupid. "One does not necessarily need to know the subject of the argument, not so early as this."

"Cryptic," Ginger said. "Infuriating and cryptic. Fine. I'll take my nose elsewhere, just this once. We were busy anyway. We were going to see why there's a crowd over there."

"Oh that?" the Corsair said, dismissively. "That's nothing. First human commercial luxury submarine launch or something."

Ginger lit up. "A submarine?"

The Doctor was surprised. "You like submarines?" She'd never expressed interest before.

"It's not so much about the submarine itself," she admitted. "But undersea life is _wicked _cool. You think space has some creepy crawlies? We don't even _know _what's down at the bottom of the ocean! Can we go have a look?"

"After that compelling argument?" he replied. "Just try to stop me!"

They grinned at each other for a moment then took off in the direction of the crowd.

"I think I'll go have a look as well," Cupid said, walking away.

"Hold on!" the Corsair replied, taking off after him. "We're not finished with this conversation!"

"My dear girl," Cupid called back to her. "We've been having this conversation for so long now that I _know _it's not found its conclusion."

Ginger pushed their way to the front of the crowd in time for the ribbon cutting. The largest silver submarine that Ginger had ever seen was waiting at the end of the dock, and a dark-haired woman was stepping up to begin a speech.

"Welcome!" she said excitably, smiling for the news cameras. "This is an exciting day for all of us! The long-awaited maiden voyage of Thetis!"

"Thetis," Cupid whispered to Ginger. "Interesting mythological reference. I expect that it went right over your head-"

"I know who Thetis was," she hissed back. "She was a sea nymph. Mother of Achilles." She suddenly felt confused. Why had she felt so offended to be challenged like that? More than that: Why had she felt like she needed to prove herself? Mostly, though, she had to wonder why she'd felt the strangest sense of deja vu. As if this sort of challenge was commonplace for them.

The crowd finished applauding and the woman resumed her speech. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Captain Sydney Rhine. I'm a marine biologist and expert mariner. I've been exploring these depths for almost 20 years. You may know me from my work on the Ocean Floor Map and my various species cataloging efforts. I've been working to make marine biology accessible to the public, and in my mind it starts with letting you see this up close. So as soon as we advanced the science enough, I knew that it was time to let the public in. Hopefully this will be the first of many commercial luxury undersea cruises - I worked very hard to make it cheap enough so that it wasn't just available to the rich and famous. I'm so excited to begin this journey with you! Those of you with tickets, please begin boarding. Next stop: the bottom of the Marianas Trench!"

Ginger gasped and turned to the Doctor. "The Marianas Trench? That's the deepest point on Earth! Nobody's ever made it all the way down there! It's too bad we don't have tickets..."

The Doctor looked back at her in silence for a moment before reaching into his pocket and retrieving two tickets. Ginger snatched them immediately.

"When did you do this?" she demanded. "I was gonna just suggest we use the psychic paper..."

He was obviously pleased with himself. "You remember when you asked why I didn't answer you the first time I shouted?"

"You set this all up on purpose!" she exclaimed. "Well come on, let's go!" She took him by the arm and dragged him along.

"You know, it sounds like fun," Cupid mused. He began queuing after them.

"You can't be serious," said the Corsair.

"I've never had the opportunity to actually _go _on one of these things," he said. "So why not? Of course you're coming."

She shook her head vehemently. "Absolutely not-"

"The Doctor is about to get into a submarine that is going to the deepest point of the ocean, which was previously thought of as impossible for humanoids to enter due to the pressure," Cupid reminded her. "And don't forget. Ginger will be down there with him." He was satisfied with her look of terror. "You can't leave him down there with her. You've got to keep an eye."

"Dammit, Cupid," she groaned, and queued behind him. "You have tickets?"

"No," he said, cheerfully.

She nodded, understanding. "The old-fashioned way, then."

...

"This is so cool," Ginger said, looking around the large domed room. 

"Everyone inside?" Captain Rhine said. "Good. Seal the doors."

Ginger eyed the doors warily as they formed a water-tight seal. The Doctor knew that she didn't like being in enclosed unfamiliar spaces. He placed a hand on her right arm. She looked up at him, immediately comforted.

Captain Rhine continued speaking. "You may feel strange momentarily as we pressurize the cabin. It will only last a moment. It's for your own safety so that we can survive a voyage at these depths."

Ginger immediately felt off-balance, and reached with her left hand to grip the Doctor's hand, which was still on her right arm. Within seconds, she felt stabilized again. 

"There we are," smiled Captain Rhine. "This is our gathering area - cabins are just beyond those doors. These windows are made of Wexaelian glass - which a few of you might know is not exactly glass at all. It's a special material that is stronger and thicker than titanium and yet flexible and light enough to be used like this. This gives you the ability to look out into the sea without fearing any damage." She clasped her hands together. "Now, if you'd follow me?" The Doctor and Ginger glanced at each other and moved with the group toward a smaller room beyond a door. "This is the cabin. Normally, you won't be allowed in here. But we wanted to show your our superior scientific equipment." She gestured to a green-skinned woman with aquamarine hair. "This is my first officer, Dr Allela. She's piloted ships like this in several star systems and helped us build our systems. And here." She gestured to a gray-haired man who Ginger had thought was human until she saw his jet black eyes. "Our navigational engineer, Klekov. There are many other staff members on board the ship who are also vital to this cruise, and if you're not civil to them we'll throw you out of the airlock." She laughed. "I'm just kidding. Sort of. Now do we have any questions? Or shall we just begin descent?" She smiled at their silence. "Excellent." She turned to the controls and started giving orders to Allela and Klekov. Finally she was satisfied with the readings and gripped a lever. "And now...Down we go!" She pulled the lever and the ship started a smooth, controlled descent into the waters. Everyone gasped appreciatively as the front window of the craft began to show crystal-clear waters and a variety of sea life.

"Was that a starfish?" Ginger whispered.

"Now we are submerged," said Captain Rhine. The crowd clapped. "Please, please, we haven't made it to our destination yet. If you'll excuse us, we have to get to the business of steering. Feel free to gather near the windows in the main room. Food will be served in one hour."

...

Ginger and the Doctor stood in front of a large window. 

"I love a good jellyfish," Ginger admitted, watching one float past their vessel. "I hope we get to see a cephalopod at some point."

He smiled at her. "I forgot that you like cephalopods."

They listened to some tourists a short distance away trying to identify some species of fish using a guidebook. 

"They can't seem to agree, can they?" Ginger chuckled.

"They shouldn't," he said. "They're all wrong."

"Humans are adorable," Ginger said. "Always with their funny little guesses and machines..."

"Be nice," he replied. "Don't forget that you've only been not-human for a month."

"I resent that," she laughed.

Cupid and the Corsair sat some distance away, watching this unfold in silence.

"You don't find that troubling?" the Corsair asked, sipping what she called 'tea' but which was mostly rum. 

"You don't think that's different?" Cupid shot back amicably. "Maybe you should slow down on the 'tea'."

"I'm too stressed to slow down," she complained. "This whole situation is incredibly stressful."

"It is," Cupid agreed. "But also...very hopeful. This time." He changed the subject. "Did you happen to notice Rhine and Allela?"

She looked alarmed. "No. Should I have?"

"No, no, it's quite alright," he assured her. "I always forget you can't read auras."

The Doctor and Ginger joined them, taking seats. The Corsair stared at Ginger warily.

Ginger was the first one to speak. "So I wanted you to know that I know, now. I know what I am."

The Corsair stood up, seized by a sudden terror. Cupid held out a hand to urge her to stand back down. "You jump to conclusions quite as easily as she does, Cora." He looked back at Ginger. "What is it that you think you know?"

This response confused her further. "That I originated on Gallifrey, of course. I opened the fob watch."

Cupid smiled, satisfaction evident. Relief led the Corsair to sit back down.

"See, Cora?" said Cupid. "Nothing whatsoever to worry about." Ginger was beginning to be annoyed as well as confused, and Cupid knew that. "Don't you worry yourself, my dear. You're still young. I always find it so endearing that you think that knowing you're Gallifreyan means you know what you are."

"What do you mean?" Ginger demanded.

Cupid deflected her expertly. "I'll put it in a way someone so young as you could understand." He thought for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Ah yes, I'll use that program you like so much, that 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'. 'You think you know what's to come, what you are. You haven't even begun.'"

"But that's not telling me anything!" she complained, frustrated. She realized that she was raising her voice and worked hard to control it. "I just want to know what you know."

"My dear," Cupid said, sadly. "You really don't. But you do feel better, don't you?"

"I feel annoyed-"

"Not about this," he said. "I mean you feel better in general. No more headaches? Sick feelings? I know they mostly went away when you were on the TARDIS or on certain other planets and I know they went away completely when you were in Cardiff. But since your biology rearranged, you feel stronger. Am I wrong?"

"No," she said. "I do feel...better. Not so tired all the time."

"Part of that, I'm sure, is just being happier," said Cupid. "But yes. You would've felt tired and sick all the time as a human. Your human body couldn't've survived another 30 years like that."

"Why not?" asked the Doctor. "What are you hiding?"

"So much," he said cryptically. "But the time isn't right."

"I'm still confused about the last time we met," said Ginger. "Never mind the theatrics of the situation, I want to know why. You said you wanted to meet us."

"You usually find me by now," said Cupid. "I was curious when you waited so long. And then I heard from the Corsair and was just...so curious. I'm usually supposed to wait for you to be ready. You have...no questions for me?"

"You know that I do."

"But you haven't asked all of the usual ones. There are some that I can answer at this stage. About who you are."

"I know who I am," she said, stubbornly. "That's not in question."

...

The night progressed with no incident, and they all retired to their separate cabins. The Doctor was up early the next morning and found only one non-staff member awake.

"Ginger always sleeps in," said Cupid. "Which of course you know already."

"What are you implying?" the Doctor asked, putting his hands on his hips.

Cupid smiled. "Absolutely nothing, of course. I know for a fact that the two of you are in a place that could almost be called platonic."

The Doctor took a seat directly across from him. "I think you owe us explanations. You particularly owe that to Ginger."

"She's not asking me anything that I'm allowed to answer," said Cupid. "Or, at any rate, anything that is wise for me to answer."

"This is a game to you?" he demanded. 

"No," said Cupid, sadly. "This is vitally important. It's life-or-death. But if I stop thinking of it as a game, I'll become depressed and useless."

"Who are you?"

"Cupid."

"And who is Cupid?"

"Someone who cares very deeply." He looked more intently at the Doctor. "As are you. You care very deeply about her." He sat up straighter and analysed him. "Of course, you always have strong feelings for each other, you can't help it...but you're in love with her. _Oh._" He gave him a sympathetic look. "And you _know _it too. I've never seen this before. Complete lack of denial. All in, as they say. But you were still in denial last time we met, when did this happen?"

The Doctor tried to deflect with sarcasm. "And you saw all this in my aura, did you?"

He shook his head. "No, my dear boy. Well, yes, somewhat. But also in your eyes. The way you look at her...and the way you look when you talk about her. I tasted your denial last time-"

He held up a hand. "What do you mean _tasted_?"

Cupid smiled as if he'd said something painfully cute. "My dear Doctor, you didn't think I kissed you for _pleasure, _did you? I mean, it _was _a pleasurable experience, exceeded expectations, of course. But to say that's my motivation..." He chuckled. "Don't look so put out. I've developed this, shall we say, ability to tell certain romantic things from readings I draw from lips. I wanted to know how things had progressed in your time with Ginger, since they seemed to be developing so abnormally. I hadn't dared allow myself to hope...but there you were, my dear boy, and I know things haven't been _perfect _with you two, but from the impressions I got...I do hope now. Yes, indeed."

"I don't understand."

"And that's not your fault. You're not meant to at this stage. I suppose you might say that it's ineffable."

"I wouldn't."

"She might. If only as a joke. She always did like that book. Identifies so completely with Crowley, though if my impressions of you two are correct, she is your Aziraphale in a way. Just behaviorally. Towards you. Can I ask what prompted you to know?"

"What?"

"That you loved her. Nothing is too personal for me, Doctor. I can help. I _am _the expert."

He crossed his arms and sat back further in his seat. "The expert in what?"

"Oh a couple of things," he said airily. "Most people come to me as an expert in romance and human interconnections. You could benefit from that for sure. But I'm also the foremost expert in Ginger. There's only one person who it might be argued knows her better, but he's not someone you'd want to talk to."

"Maybe I do. Who is he?"

Cupid smiled. "Doctor, we're not discussing him. We're discussing you. Take me through the moment you knew you loved her. I'll be discreet."

The Doctor couldn't say why, but he had a sudden powerful need to say it aloud. "It was right after we last saw you. We still had traces of pheromones in our systems."

"And?" prompted Cupid. 

"And...we got high."

"Algoni toxin?"

The Doctor's brow furrowed. "THC capsules."

"Right, right, go on."

"And...she kissed me. It might be more accurate to say that she came onto me."

Cupid looked at him steadily. "And? Doctor, you will not understand this now, but it is vitally important that I know what exactly transpired after she kissed you."

"She was shaking. I could feel it and knew that, whatever she was saying, she didn't really want to be doing that. So I told her that we didn't have to. That I wouldn't want her, not like that. She started crying. I held her until she fell asleep. That's when I knew."

The Doctor didn't understand the look on Cupid's face. It was torn somewhere between fascination and hope. "You knew because you didn't take advantage of her?"

"No!" he said, hastily. "I didn't turn it down because it was her. I would've turned down anyone who was that blitzed. I wouldn't force myself on anyone."

"So what about that made you realize?"

"Because I did want her. I hadn't let myself even think about it until then, but I did. I care about her. And I want her to get better." He closed his eyes for a moment. "You know, I was so out of it as well, I'd hoped that once I'd slept it off that I'd realize I'd been wrong. I couldn't love her - it was just the drugs and the pheromones. She's...her. And I'm...me. And there's so many reasons why we shouldn't...I didn't sleep that night, but I did sober up. And I was terrified because I still loved her." He opened his eyes. "So I told myself that I was sleep deprived, that once I _did _sleep, I'd wake up with clarity. And I did. She was the first thing I thought about when I woke up - and not just because she was lying there next to me."

"She was what?"

"I don't mean like..." He groaned. "We end up falling asleep watching movies most nights. In the holodeck. On a very large, very comfortable sofa. It's easier that way. Easier than trying to fall asleep alone."

"And you probably don't have nightmares anymore when you are physically present with each other as opposed to in separate rooms..."

The Doctor sat up straighter and looked at Cupid sharply. "Yes, as a matter of fact. How do you know that?"

He waved a hand. "You're almost ready for that answer, but you wouldn't yet believe me. Continue with your story. You had clarity?"

The Doctor resigned himself to not getting that answer. "I did. I woke up, and before opening my eyes I wondered what she wanted for breakfast. Then I opened my eyes and she was there sprawled out across the opposite end of the sofa. Just like always." He smiled to himself. "You know she does this thing when she wakes up? She's never peaceful, even in sleep. So when she wakes up, it's like she immediately tenses for a fight. But then she sees me and relaxes." His smile faded as he came back to the present. "I love her. Despite everything. I've tried not to. She wouldn't like it if she knew."

"Does it pain you terribly? Loving her so deeply but not being with her?"

"I am with her." He hurried on to explain. "I don't mean 'with her' with her. I mean that physically, I'm present. I show up. I don't understand what people mean when they talk about the friend zone. It's a great place to be. I don't need any of those other physical...things. I don't. My intentions are completely innocent."

"I know."

"You do?"

"It's remarkable, but I know that you're not, as she'd say, 'trying anything.'"

"I'm glad to be around her," he insisted. "I'm glad she trusts me enough to be around me. I'm glad that she's safe. That's so important to me, knowing that she's safe. Because it's so difficult to make sure of that. She's so impulsive, you know. But I can keep an eye on her. Make sure she's safe. And it just means a lot to me that she lets me be close to her. She doesn't let anyone near her, but she lets me in. Not in any way that most people would understand but...It would hurt to not be around her. It doesn't hurt that I'm not...doing those things that people think we should be doing. You know, she's held my hand a few times. She's hugged me. Once, but it was still something. I wouldn't give that up for anything. Because I know how much that means."

"It would mean a lot," Cupid concurred. "Coming from her, it would be foolish to not realize that it means the world."

"She doesn't need to love me the way I love her. I don't intend to be some pining child about this. I enjoy her company far too much."

"You don't think she loves you the way you love her?"

"She's made it clear how she feels about me."

Cupid chuckled. "My dear Doctor, she's never clear about anything, much less feelings. She obfuscates, she denies...Try an experiment. See the way she looks at you and compare it to how she looks at anybody else. It's a night and day difference. It's like comparing apples and ulanda."

This snapped the Doctor out of his thoughts. "Ulanda? And you said you're not Gallifreyan."

"I didn't say that either," Cupid smiled. "I'm complicated. Haven't been back to Gallifrey in quite some time."

The Doctor was suddenly confused. Why had he been telling Cupid all of these things? It didn't make sense. It was as if the honest answers had just been pulled out of him.

"I can see from your face," said Cupid. "That our conversation has met its natural end. Don't trouble yourself too much. I wouldn't make a very good interrogator. I can only draw out answers of this type. Just know that you are doing the right thing." He got up to go.

"Wait!" he said, standing up as well. "I still want to know what she is. Why does she process time like a TARDIS?"

Cupid's grin was one of shock as well as delight. "She told you?"

"I did scans. Then we did tests."

"She let you do scans then let you do tests." Cupid reached out with one heavily gloved hand to shake the Doctor's hand vigorously. "My dear boy, I could kiss you again and this time it would _actually _be for pleasure! She trusts you! She doesn't say anything, but that's the most trust I've ever seen! That's...Thank you. I'm more confident than ever that I'm right and Cora is wrong."

The Doctor found this strange. He gripped Cupid's hand tightly to stop him from trying to walk away. "This argument of yours...it's not about us? You're not...betting on us?"

Cupid appeared appalled. He expertly extricated his hand like a refined, but appropriately affronted, lady in a period drama. "My dear boy, I find that a most shocking accusation! I assure you that I'd never do any such thing! That would be betting on love, and I never bet on love! Unlike you, I find the idea most morally repugnant!" 

The Doctor decided that he had more pressing questions. "Does she process language like a TARDIS as well? I've noticed that she doesn't seem to need to study Gallifreyan. I explain it to her, then she has it."

"She asked to see the curse words first, didn't she? She always asks for the swears first." He started to turn, but thought better of it. He held a finger in the air. "Actually, can I ask you something that's been on my mind?"

"You know so much, I'm surprised you even have to ask any questions about us at all."

"What happened with Queen Bess?"

This threw him off. "Sorry?"

Cupid rephrased his query. "Queen Elizabeth, Doctor. We've heard the rumors. I only wondered how much truth there was to them." The Doctor didn't answer and Cupid nodded. "It bothers you, doesn't it? Not being able to remember?"

The Doctor leaned forward. "How do you know that?" he whispered fervently. "I haven't told _anyone_!"

Cupid smiled. "You really don't remember, do you?"

"I reconstructed those events completely based on what Ginger said afterward," he said. "I haven't even told _her _that I can't remember! For all I know, I never got married!"

"Oh you did, you very much did, you cad," Cupid said. "But you weren't entirely in your right mind at the time. I guess you could say you weren't entirely yourself...Oh don't worry, my dear boy. Those memories will be returned when you need them. But now isn't the time. You'll simply have to wait." He checked his watch. "Ginger should be along any moment now. She never misses a breakfast bar."

...

Ginger came down for breakfast eventually and scanned the room with her eyes. The Doctor watched her. She was groggy from sleep and didn't react much to any face that she saw. Until she saw him. She smiled instantly and came to sit at his table.

"Sleep well?" he asked her.

"Had nightmares again," she admitted. 

"First time in a while," he said.

"Yeah. You?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Has to be weird that the only time we don't have nightmares is when we're in the same room," she said. 

"It definitely is. Have you been up long?"

"For a while. Talked with the captain again."

Ginger smiled. "Did you two nerd out again?" He'd gotten to know Captain Rhine the previous night and they'd chattered away happily about science.

"She says we'll be entering the Trench around the end of breakfast."

"How long will it take to reach the bottom?"

"About four hours. She also said there are special diving suits if we wanted to go out there."

Ginger grinned. "Go out there?"

"Yeah. But I understand if you don't want to."

"Of course I want to! Sign me up!"

They were joined by the Corsair. "Sign you up for what? Therapy?"

The Doctor noticed how her face changed, becoming unimpressed and impassive as she turned to the Corsair. "If you wouldn't mind canning it til I've had my food. It's no good getting in a zinger when your opponent is too groggy to respond."

...

The few of them who were brave enough to put on diving suits were gearing up to go out into the Trench.

"You going out there?" Cupid asked Ginger.

"Try to stop me," she said, excitedly.

"Well I sort of am," he said, apologetically. "I'm afraid you can't go out there."

She crossed her arms. "Why not?"

"The diving suit is magnetized," he explained. "If you put it on, you'll lose consciousness."

The Doctor stepped out in his diving suit. "Why aren't you ready to go?" he complained. "Put on your suit!"

"Cupid says I can't go," she complained. "Says the suit is magnetized and I'll lose consciousness if I leave the ship." She tossed the helmet onto a table.

"If it helps," Cupid offered. "Cora and I can't go either."

The Doctor knew there was something about Ginger and magnets, and saw no reason not to trust Cupid on this matter. "I won't go either, then. I know you were excited-"

She waved a hand. "You go ahead. I don't want us both to miss it."

Allela stepped out of the cockpit at that moment. "You're not going on the expedition?"

"I have a magnet allergy," she shrugged. 

Allela could see she was upset. "Would you like to wait in the cockpit with me? When the captain goes on dives, we watch her progress through her Helmet Cam. I could rig him up with one and you'd be in constant contact."

Ginger nodded. "Yeah. I think that would make me feel better." She turned back to the Doctor. "You gonna be okay out there by yourself?"

He smiled. "I'll be fine."

...

Ginger watched the monitor screens.

"How's it looking, Doctor?" she asked. He made a thumbs-up motion in front of his camera. She smiled. "Good." She leaned closer to the monitor. "Wow, it sure is dark out there, isn't it?"

"Except for the glowing things," the Doctor replied, his voice tinny through the coms.

"This is incredible," she breathed.

"Wish you could be out here," he said.

"Me too." 

...

"Alright," Captain Rhine said. "Let's head back to the ship." She started ushering them all back.

The Doctor noticed a hole in the ocean floor. "What's that?"

Captain Rhine stopped and looked in the direction he was pointing. "I've never noticed that before," she admitted. 

"An even deeper point in the deepest point on Earth?" he offered.

"We have to get back to the ship..."

"Oh come on," he urged. "You're a scientist. Don't tell me you're not curious. Let's you and I go down there. Just for a moment."

Ginger could hear all of this on the coms. "Doctor, no. I forbid it. You can't go down there. Not without me, anyway."

"You forbid it?" he asked. 

"Yeah that's right," she replied.

The Doctor looked at Captain Rhine. "Is it weird that that sort of makes me want to do it more?"

Ginger sighed. "Doctor, I'm serious, please don't go down there..." He took dove down into the hole. "Aaaaand he ignored me."

"Sorry," the Doctor said. "But just look at these readings! Don't pretend like you don't think this is cool!"

She smiled in spite of herself. "It is that."

Captain Rhine's voice came over the coms. "What are you seeing?"

"Some glow moss," he said. "Vegetation is very sparse this far down."

"What could've caused a hole down that deep?" Ginger asked. "I've got a nasty feeling if something can burrow that far down."

"Well, we all know that the Marianas Trench suffered some fall-out from the Great Tectonic Shift of 2187," said Captain Rhine. "That's why it got so deep that we're even able to set this record for being down here. Humans made it down to the original depths of Marianas in 2019, but it was suddenly too deep even for those divers. Until now. But this hole...It wasn't here before and it doesn't look like tectonic shifting or burrowing..."

"...It's more like something crashed into it," finished the Doctor.

"Scratch that," Ginger said. "I like that answer even less."

"You never used to be so nervous, Ginger," the Doctor said.

"Yeah, well, you're usually not out somewhere on your own," Ginger said. The video feed began shorting out. "Doctor? We just lost your video feed. You still there?"

"Still here," he said.

"I'd feel better if you got back up here," she said. "I don't like being blind up here."

"Give me a minute, I'm almost to the bottom," he insisted. "There's something up ahead..."

"What is it? What do you see?"

"Oh. Oh no no no no, that's not good. We've got to get out of here right now-"

"Doctor! We're losing your voice here, what's going on, where are you? Can you hear me? Doctor, are you there? Doctor?"

All they got back was static. 

...

Captain Rhine stepped out of the depressurization chamber and took off her helmet. 

"Where's the Doctor?" Ginger demanded. "Where is he?"

"I made the decision to come back to the ship when we lost his signal," she said. 

"That's not good enough!" she shouted. "I'm going to ask you again what you saw out there! _Where is he?"_

"I didn't see anything. I didn't go down there."

She picked up a diving suit. "Well I'm going after him!"

Cupid stepped in front of her. "Ginger, we talked about this, you can't go out there-"

She gave him a look so icy that it could've given him hypothermia. "Are _you _going to stop me? Get out of my way!"

The entire submarine shook and the lights flickered.

"Well that's not good," she said.

Suddenly a voice called from the coms. "Ginger. Ginger, it's me. Let me in." It sounded like the Doctor.

"That's not him," Ginger said. "I don't know how I know, but I know."

"It sure sounds like him," said Captain Rhine, beginning to move to the hatch.

Cupid put out a hand to stop her. "If Ginger says it isn't him, it isn't. She'd know instantly. Even a perfect fake couldn't fool her."

"Ginger," the voice continued. "Let me in, Ginger."

Ginger felt an ache in her chest and wanted to go to him but she shivered and crossed her arms. "It's not him."

"Something is using his voice," said the Corsair.

Cupid turned to her. "You don't think?"

"God, I hope not."

One of the passengers approached just as the submarine shook again. "Is this part of the entertainment? When did you have time to put all those stone angels outside of the ship?"

The ship shook again and the lights went out completely. Only the backup power still worked.

"Well that's just great," said the Corsair. "Now we're stuck here."

...

The Corsair rushed around with the other engineers, trying to get the ship working again.

"This might be an entirely new evolutionary breed of Weeping Angel," Cupid said. "Evolved to live under water. I imagine they probably got stranded here and had to adapt."

"You're not helping," the Corsair said. "They got the Doctor. So we have to find him and get him back. There's no time to speculate."

"Have you ever met a Weeping Angel up close?" asked Cupid.

"I haven't."

"Nor have I. Never really fancied the idea, if I'm being honest. There are just some things that people like you and I shouldn't mess with."

Ginger stopped pacing. "Can you two stop _chattering_? The Doctor is out there somewhere and I _hate _being this helpless! I want to _do _something!"

"Well then shut up and help me with this!"

...

The Weeping Angels managed to breach the submarine, and it was quickly filling with water. They were grabbing people left and right, and people were disappearing. Ginger was getting good at not blinking. They lost managed to lose the crew, so it ended up just being the Corsair, Cupid, Ginger, and a few of the passengers shut in the pressurized cockpit. The Corsair was trying fruitlessly to get any machines working.

"What do we do?" Ginger said, beginning to panic. "I need ideas, people! We can't just be giving up! The Doctor would know what to do!"

"Well the Doctor isn't here," the Corsair snapped. "And you're a poor excuse for a substitute. Sometimes I forget how young you are. Sure it means you're less likely to be a bloodthirsty monster, but on the other hand it means you're bone-dead stupid."

"God why do you hate me so much?" Ginger shouted. "I keep trying with you! The Doctor seems to like you so I keep trying to be your friend-"

"You don't _have _friends."

"What, so you're not even gonna try?"

"I've _tried _being your friend!" she shouted, surprising Ginger with the sudden intensity of her emotions. "I've tried that! There were many times when I tried being your enemy, but most of the time I tried being your friend. You never accepted my help. So we became enemies anyway. Which was a shame, because you could be so much more. You're intelligent, funny, talented, passionate...but you've got a black hole inside you and it consumes absolutely everything around you. I've tried saving you so many times, but no matter how this ends there's nothing I can do for you. Sometimes I can almost understand what he sees in you, but most of the time I don't at all."

"It's not his fault, Cora," said Cupid, softly. "They were forged in the same star." He seemed to realize he'd made a mistake and glanced at Ginger, but she didn't seem to have noticed his statement at all. She was still staring at the Corsair.

"You're not...You're not angry with me," Ginger said, as the realization dawned on her. "I've known so much hatred in my life and...You actually don't hate me. You're not even angry with me. You're...sad." She reached up to push up her glasses and the Corsair flinched as if afraid she was going to get hit. "And...scared of me. My God, you're one of the most badass people I've ever met and you're actually scared of me! I know I deserve it, but...What have I done to you to make you feel this way?"

"You really want to know?" the Corsair asked, glowering at her with an intensity she'd never had before. "Alright, I'll tell you, then." She stepped forward until she was right up in Ginger's face. "I tried to save your life and you murdered me in cold blood. You murdered me and my bird! Is that what you wanted to know? You can't be trusted, because you're only capable of hurting people. You can't find it in yourself to help. And this only proves it more. The Doctor probably wouldn't be in this mess if he hadn't wanted to impress you."

She was stung by this. "He wasn't trying to impress me. I told him not to go."

"I don't just mean about diving down there," the Corsair said. "This whole thing. Coming down in this submarine in the first place. He was doing this for you."

Suddenly a voice came from the coms. "Hello? Anyone out there?"

Ginger's hearts skipped a beat. "Doctor? Is that you?" She could hardly believe it.

"Sorry, I got myself into a jam," he said apologetically. "I take it by now you know you're surrounded by Weeping Angels?"

She sighed from relief. "Yes, we know. Where the _hell _have you been?"

"The Weeping Angel couldn't get through my magnetized suit," the Doctor said. "I expect it's something to do with the odd way they've evolved down here. But it knocked me out so I couldn't keep in contact. It could've killed me, honestly, don't know why it didn't."

"It probably realized there was a bigger feast over this way," said the Corsair. "A couple of people have already died. Most of the crew and passengers have already been temporally relocated."

"My coms were knocked out too," the Doctor said. "I just got them back to working order. I'm going to try to find a way into the ship without alerting the Angels. It looks like it's sustained some pretty severe damage. Where are you? I'll come to you."

Ginger started to answer, but Captain Rhine held her back. "How do you know it's really him? It could be an Angel."

Ginger was instantly irritated. "It's him, I know it is."

"But how do you _know_?"

"I told you, she'd know," Cupid said. "We can trust her and only her."

"She's right to question it," the Doctor said. "Weeping Angels can steal the voice of the dead. There's no real way to prove it's me and not some echo."

Ginger took a breath, trying not to panic. "You know who Echo was in Greek mythology, right? She faded away until nothing was left but her voice."

"Not really helpful, Ginger," the Doctor said softly.

Ginger was frustrated that she was on the brink of tears. "I know it's you, I don't know how! But I knew instantly that it wasn't you when the Angels mimicked you before! So why shouldn't I trust that now?"

"I don't have a good reason, Rabbit," he said.

The sound of her nickname somehow filled her with more confidence. "We're in the cockpit. Hurry."

...

The Doctor made it into the cockpit just as the Angels broke through the sealed door to the cockpit. The Angels froze in place.

"Don't blink!" the Doctor reminded them all.

"Doctor!" Ginger shouted.

"I mean it!" the Doctor warned her. "Don't. Blink." He made his way through the throng of Angels and came to her side. She clung tightly to his side. 

"So what do we do?" the Corsair asked. "You're the only one with any real-world experience with this species, Doctor. Are we just supposed to take blinking in shifts?"

The lights flickered. "No," the Doctor said. "We need to find a way out and we need to do it now."

"What about the other passengers?" Cupid asked. "The ones who were displaced?"

"We'll do what we can," the Doctor assured him. "But we can't do that if we get caught. Everyone move slowly towards the diving suits. Keeps your eyes on the Angels."

They moved forward slowly, keeping tightly to the walls so the Angels were never out of their sight. But the lights kept flickering.

"We'll lose the emergency lights any minute," said the Corsair.

"So let's try to be on the surface by then."

The lights immediately went out, leaving them in total darkness. Ginger, who had been clinging to the Doctor this entire time, was snatched away from him.

"Ginger!" he shouted.

The Doctor initially thought that the lights had come back on, but soon realized that the glow was emanating from three Weeping Angels. One was holding the Corsair tightly by the arms while she struggled, the other had Cupid by the throat, and the third had a grip on Ginger's wrist while she stared it down with a fierce kind of anger.

"That's enough," Ginger said, in a low voice. "We're not going anywhere."

"What's...happening?" Cupid managed to choke out.

The Corsair had finally stopped struggling. "I think...it can't process us. It was after us for our time energy, but it can't displace us because of what we are. It will have to feed on us here."

"But why's it glowing?" Cupid asked.

"Because it's overloading," the Corsair said. "It's too much for any one Angel to take."

"That gives me an idea," Ginger said.

"Oh this'll be good," said the Corsair.

"No, I mean it. But you'll have to look away."

"What?" the Corsair spat.

"We have to stop looking at them just for a second."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Frequently. I'm not asking you to trust me, I'm saying you have no choice."

The Corsair and Cupid were reaching the end of the amount of time they could keep their eyes open anyway.

"Alright," Ginger said. "If we're in agreement...On the count of three...One...two...THREE..."

They all blinked and the glowing stopped. But the second Ginger blinked, she reached out and did the impossible. She grabbed a Weeping Angel by the arm. The glow resumed and the others looked at her.

"How did you do that?" the Doctor asked. "A Weeping Angel is intangible when not in stone form. You can't grab it when it's incorporeal."

"I think we can," said the Corsair. "Not you, Doctor, sorry, you're ordinary. But for once, I think Ginger had an idea."

"Everyone who's not the Doctor, grab an Angel," Ginger commanded.

"I resent being called ordinary," the Doctor mumbled.

"Alright, so we're going to overload the Angels," Ginger said.

"Do you think there's a chance this will kill it?" asked the Doctor.

"No," said Cupid. "Not unless we give more than we have."

"But we can hurt it," said the Corsair.

"And maybe, just maybe..." said Ginger. "We can get the others back." She turned to the Angels. "Not a chatty bunch, are you? I admit, whatever it was you were doing back there made me feel a tiny bit tired, but unfortunately you've also pissed me off so no energy sapping is gonna stop me, you got it? Now you're going to return the people you've displaced. Return them to the surface, and we'll let you live."

"Try to concentrate very hard," said Cupid. "Direct all your Time to them. It's what they feed on."

"So you can choke on it," Ginger said, bitterly.

The glow got brighter and brighter as the Angels were overloaded and finally there was a flash so bright that they all blinked and looked away. When they could see again, the Angels were gone.

"Do you think it worked?" asked Ginger.

"Never mind that!" the Doctor said as the main lights came back on. "I imagine we've got enough power in this thing to get us almost to the surface if we go right now!"

Ginger stumbled, evidently very weak from her ordeal. Cupid caught her and they both leaned against the wall.

"We'll be fine," Cupid said. "We just need to rest."

...

And he was right, they almost made it to the surface before the ship became inoperable. 

"We'll have to swim the rest of the way," the Doctor said. He handed Ginger a diving suit.

She smiled at him and gestured to Cupid and the Corsair. "We can't use the diving suits, Doc, remember? Don't worry, we'll be fine."

The Doctor could see she was still quite weak and put an arm around her waist. "I'll help you."

...

They crawled onto the beach and Ginger immediately flung her arms around the Doctor.

"Hey," he laughed. "What's that for?"

"For being stupid," she said, drawing away from him. "I don't want you doing something like that again."

"Something like what? You did all the heavy lifting."

"I don't want you risking your life like that. Not without me. I didn't like not knowing what happened to you, so next time you go risking your life I'm going to be by your side."

"Yeah," he teased. "Because you'll be the one who talked me into it." He gazed at her then, taking in the fact that she was soaking wet and shivering. "Are you alright?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm f-f-fi-f..." She narrowed her eyes, frustrated. "F-f-f..." She laughed and gave up on saying 'fine'. "F-_freezing_," she managed to spit out, chuckling.

He grinned at her and cupped her face in his hand. "Well we'll just have to see about getting you warmed up, shall we?" He realized that that sounded dangerously close to flirting and wondered if he _had _been flirting. "Sorry, I just mean...Hot chocolate." 

He started to move his hand away from her face in an effort to respect her personal space, but she lifted both of hers to keep it held there. He couldn't make heads or tails of the look she was giving him. But there it was again. That strange gravity, pulling them together. He recognized it now for what it was. He wanted to kiss her. Just like he'd wanted to kiss her when they sat on the floor in that bedroom in Elizabeth Bathory's castle, and when they'd sat on the roof of the theatre on Halloween, and when they'd floated out in space, and when they'd crashed back into the TARDIS after almost drifting too far out in space, and when they stood in front of the submarine windows and looked at jellyfish, and when they saw each other again through a sea of Weeping Angels...And too many times to count. He could see them all now because the layers of denial were peeling away. 

"She'll be fine," said Cupid, breaking them from their trance. "The Corsair and I are going to Cardiff now to recharge. You should do the same. She'll be good as new in no time."

"I didn't know we could do that," the Corsair admitted.

"Nor did I," said Cupid. "We're an extraordinary bunch."

Ginger pulled the Doctor's hand away from her face, but kept holding it in both of hers. "You two," she said to the Corsair and Cupid. "Explain. Now."

"My dear," Cupid said. "You're too young. Someday, yes, but not this day."

The Doctor looked around to see that the other passengers and the crew had been returned and were scattered around on the beach. Allela was frantically searching the survivors.

"Sydney?" she shouted. "Sydney?"

"Over here!" Captain Rhine shouted. "Can you believe this? Our first voyage ends in a wreck like this! We'll never get funding again-"

Allela kissed her. 

"See," Cupid nudged the Corsair. "I called it. I never bet on love, but that was obvious."

The Corsair shot a warning look at the Doctor and Ginger. "Don't you two get any ideas from that."

Ginger avoided looking at the Corsair, and the Doctor noticed this discomfort. "No ideas. You know me."

"Yes I do," said the Doctor. "And you were brilliant. Wasn't she?"

"She was," beamed Cupid.

The Corsair sighed. "Look, Cupid, I'm tired. If you're gonna be chatty, I'll see you later. But otherwise, I'm leaving now. Cardiff awaits."

"It always does," Cupid smiled. The two of them turned around and vanished into thin air.

...

The Doctor and Ginger returned to the TARDIS.

"You're shivering," the Doctor said. "Why don't you go get changed while I get us to Cardiff?"

"S-sounds g-good," she said, with chattering teeth. 

She took off, dripping seawater all over the floor. He smiled to himself. This had been a weird day, make no mistake about it. But even so, he couldn't help but feel happy to be back home with her.

_Special delivery,_ the TARDIS said, lighting up some buttons on the console near where a small crystal disc was sitting.

He frowned and crossed the room to pick it up. "Where did this come from?" he asked.

_Cupid dropped it off._

"Cupid was here?"

_It's a memory crystal-_

"I know what it is." He turned it over in his hands and could hear it whispering. "And it's mine. But I didn't make a memory crystal...Does this have something to do with my missing memories?"

_Only one way to find out. Better do it now before she comes back._

He nodded and placed it into a disc drive. An image came up on the view screen. It was Ginger. She was rolling her eyes, but a small smile was tugging at the corners of her lips. He realized this must be from his perspective.

"Well you can't go out to meet the Queen like that," she said. "Your hair is all-"

He could hear his own voice. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"You've got dumb hair and you know it," she teased. She reached out to flatten it down. "There, now it looks all queenly and proper." She kept smoothing it down, well past when she could've stopped. She seemed to realize this and got slower. 

The Doctor remembered this suddenly. The way she'd looked at him, just for a moment...How could he have forgotten this? But that was the end of the tape and he couldn't remember anything that had led up to it or that had come after. This was troubling.

"Whatcha watching?" Ginger said, coming to his side.

He jumped because he hadn't notice her come in. "Nothing," he lied. "I was just..." He bothered a favorite phrase of hers. "Spacing."


	38. Man Didn't Walk on the Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've been forewarned that I was challenged to write something 'out of my comfort zone' so this chapter has a bit there near the end that is a little less 'tasteful' than my usual stuff...unless you want to make a pun of it, in which case...

They'd picked a warm summer day, but the two Travelers hadn't accounted for the breeze. Chilled to the bone and dripping with seawater, they normally would've attracted at least some curious stares in a normal environment. After all, one was an Asian pirate and the other was a pink-and-white haired man in a lovely pastel matching suit.

"But suspicion slid off them as easily as that thing water slides off of," mused Cupid.

"What?" snapped the Corsair. 

He smiled. "Nothing, nothing. I was just narrating in my head. Habit. Adam Young obviously had a perception filter."

"Who?"

"I should've saved that comment for Ginger, she would appreciate the reference," complained Cupid. He turned to stride into the little coffee shop where they usually met up.

The Corsair stopped him just as he'd opened the door. "You're not going in there like that?"

He looked down at himself. "What's wrong with the way I dress? You know, I always told Ginger-"

She rolled her eyes and sighed, not having the patience for this anymore. "Not the _outfit, _you great overgrown Easter Egg. You can't go into a restaurant like that. It's horribly rude. You'll get water everywhere."

He noted her present state. "So will you." He said this with the air of a child who didn't quite understand exactly why the adult was so hung up on this minor detail and wished to be surly about being reprimanded rather than try to correct the error.

"Yes, that's my point," she said. She took her skirt in hand and began wringing the water out onto the street. "Just try to dry a little bit. Then we go find somewhere that will serve us outside."

"Oh." He now understood her point. "Yes. Perfectly sensible."

"I hate being the sensible one," she complained.

...

They found a nice table under an umbrella outside a cafe. They were finally beginning to dry, though the wind continued to annoy.

"You know, if I were _actually _an angel, I'd do something about that," Cupid mused.

"What?" the Corsair groaned.

"Nothing," he said, quickly. He smiled. "You know, they're doing quite well this time."

"You always think that."

"But this time I mean it!" he insisted. "There's always that twinge of doubt in my voice when I say that. That tiny bit of hesitation that comes from not quite believing what I'm saying. But do you hear that this time? No! Because I have evidence to back my convictions!"

"Cupid-"

"I mean it, I really do," he said cheerfully. "She let him do _medical tests _on her! That demonstrates trust! She let him into the process! They're a team! I don't think she's even identifying as Gallifreyan this time!"

"But the way they were looking at each other on the beach," the Corsair pointed out. "You can't deny that."

"I've never thought that was an indicator of certain doom the way you did, Cora."

"But what about their codependent tendencies?" she demanded. "You've seen evidence of that at least!"

He hesitated. "...Yes, mostly from him. But that's hardly their fault! It's different, I know it is!"

"You can't let her manipulate you like this. I know you're always fond of her, but I'm so tired of watching you get sucked in. You need to learn emotional distance."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, like you did? You know, I think it was a bit reckless of you to tell her how you died last time."

She sighed. "I know. It was heat of the moment. I already regret it. Do you regret what you let slip?"

He nodded. "I do. Difference is, I don't think she really heard me."

She pulled out a small hand-held device. "I need to calculate odds. We just majorly shifted a timeline there. We're creating variables."

"Variables, always variables-"

"Aha!" She showed him the screen. "As I suspected! They were never meant to _be _there! All of us being there is the reason those people died on that submarine! Had the Doctor not gone down to discover the Weeping Angel colony, it would've remained dormant!"

He frowned at the data. "But people still would've died 30 years later when the colony was awakened by another tourist group. More people died that time. And nobody made it out alive that time." He looked back at her. "You still haven't convinced me. This is proof that the timeline can be changed for the better! We can avoid catastrophes like that!"

She sighed and put away her device. "Sometimes I really tire of your blind optimism." She took a sip of her drink and frowned at it. "Could use something stronger." She got up.

"Where are you going?" he asked her.

"Got things to do," she said. "No time to waste."

"Can't you stay just a little longer?"

This surprised her. "Why?"

"Because I feel like I never see you anymore."

"We see _plenty _of each other-"

"Yes, when there's some catastrophe, but we don't just hang out like we used to!" He sighed, a weariness settling over him. "I just...I miss when this was _fun._"

"This?" she scoffed. "This was _never _fun. It's all life and death-"

"Not _this _specifically, just...We used to be friends, remember? Before all this. We used to debate things that didn't really matter."

"We've never agreed on anything, not once," the Corsair remembered.

"Yes, but it was all in fun. Now it's all morality issues and our debates are arguments and we've become more like coworkers than friends...and I miss you. I miss when this was fun."

The Corsair could remember it like it was a dim memory from a past life. In many ways it was. She sat down. "I can't stay long."

...

In the days since the submarine disaster, the Doctor and Ginger had visited Cardiff many times. 

Ginger would always smile and close her eyes, tilting her head to the sky. "Rift energy," she'd breathe. "Better than any drug." But she had to wonder why the Doctor kept bringing her back here.

"That's because it's healthy for you," Cupid said, appearing seemingly from nowhere. "You've been starved of it all your life, so of course you appreciate it more."

The Doctor had brought Ginger here because he'd known it was the last place Cupid had said he'd be. Despite his misgivings about the man himself, he had to admit that he was useful.

"Cupid," he said. "Fancy seeing you here."

Cupid could see through the ruse immediately. "Yes. Fancy. Listen, I know Cora said some things last time we met...I wanted you both to know that what happened in the submarine wasn't your fault. We ran the numbers, and less people actually died than would have if we hadn't interfered."

"Good to know, good to know," said the Doctor. Cupid was now very interested. Whatever it was that was on his mind evidently had nothing to do with the submarine. "Listen, we've got to get going-"

"Mind if I tag along?" asked Cupid, very amused now. He wondered what the Doctor would've done if he hadn't tried to press the issue like he so clearly wanted him to. "I could use a change of scenery."

The Doctor pretended to be irritated by the request. "It's up to Ginger, really. She makes the rules about who gets on board."

"Do I?" Ginger smiled. "Alright, he can come, but only if he behaves himself."

He followed them into the TARDIS. "Where've you just come from?" he asked, noting Ginger's state of dress.

"Hm?" She looked down at her outfit. "Oh. 1940s, thereabouts? The Doctor thought it was a safe bet that I couldn't get an angry mob after me there."

He looked her up and down with obvious criticism. "1940s?"

She crossed her arms. "Yes."

"And no hosiery? My dear, you should've been mobbed for that alone."

Ginger felt as if they'd had this argument before, but in the heat of it didn't question it. "You _know _I don't like wearing that stuff. It always feels weird on my legs." She realized what she was saying was odd. "I mean. No you don't. You don't know me."

"You should've _at least _drawn a line up the back of your legs like a proper girl, is all I'm saying. Where's your sense of historical accuracy?"

She just stared at him then turned back to the Doctor. "I'm gonna go change." She took off.

"I really shouldn't've pushed her," Cupid despaired. "Sometimes I just can't help myself. But I thought we needed some time alone."

"I got that gift you left," the Doctor said, popping the memory crystal from the disc drive. "Interesting sneak peak, wasn't it?"

Cupid smiled. "Yes, I thought you might want to talk about that."

"Is there more to that?" he demanded. "I've got to know, did we-"

"It didn't go farther than that, my dear sweet boy," Cupid chuckled. "Of course it didn't. You know how she was during that time, and of course she was still human and hardly knew you. You were interrupted just exactly then."

"You said I got married."

"Yes, you did. To Queen Bess. Just exactly as Ginger says you did."

"And she was there?"

"She tried to be. She was indisposed and you were running around so very much at the time."

"What does that mean?"

"You can't be allowed to know that. I have more memory crystals, but there is a reason why you don't have those memories yet."

"Why's that?"

"Because you chose not to. Now put it from your mind, my dear boy. Do try to focus. You haven't much time before she comes back."

"I haven't been able to get that image out of my mind," he admitted. "The way she was looking at me...I don't understand it...It's almost the same way she was looking at me on the beach and I don't understand that either."

Cupid smiled. "That, my dear boy, is because you're an idiot. But that's okay, so is she. If you had more than one brain cell between the two of you, the world might explode. But can I offer some advice?"

"Please."

"Let her pick the next place you go."

"I always give her that option."

"But does she take it?"

He thought about this. "Not often. Especially not since she's been better. She just says we can go wherever I'd like. She never really outright requests destinations these days. She picks from options I give her."

"Let her come up with the idea for herself. Make sure it's somewhere she wants to go, not somewhere she thinks she ought to or that you want to. She needs to let herself want things and learn to ask for them. The main problem, as I see it, is that the more she likes you, the more she tries to be what she thinks you want her to be. You've noticed how she doesn't shout at you as much anymore? Doesn't express much annoyance of any kind, at least with you? As much as you want to tell yourself it's because she's comfortable and is showing you a side of herself that she doesn't show anyone, it's also more than that. She thinks you'll like her better if she only shows you the parts of herself that are wide-eyed and adventurous. She thinks that's the kind of girls you like. Which is foolish, of course, because we both know you prefer your girls to be a bit bossy, not shy about calling you out when you're wrong, bit shouty, and perhaps slightly more intimidating than you. You prefer girls who make the first move on you."

"As Alex would say: 'What is this, a call-out post?'" the Doctor grumbled. 

Cupid smiled. "You know it's true. And in this case, it's good. If you tried to pursue her, she'd pull away. She needs to come to you first. It's a good match in that way. She doesn't like being chased, and you don't like chasing."

"You think she would come to me, though?" the Doctor said doubtfully. "I just wonder if-"

"This conversation must end now," Cupid said. "She'll be back any minute. She was Viola in Twelfth Night, she's master of the quick change."

The Doctor took the hint and raised his voice slightly. "I'm just wondering where it is that Ginger will want to go today."

"Ginger isn't fussed," said Ginger, seconds before entering the room. "There's so much out there to see. You pick."

He avoided Cupid's smug grin. "Really? Again?" he asked. "Come on, if you could go anywhere in the universe, where would you go? Absolutely anywhere - the sky isn't even the limit."

She thought about it, before deciding better. "Nah, I'm chill, I'm not thinking anything in particular."

"Yes you are," he said. "You're doing that thing again where you want to say something, but then for some reason you don't want to say it out loud. You do that every time lately when I ask where you want to go. So where do you want to go?"

She hesitated. "It's not a big deal," she insisted. "It's stupid, really."

"I'm sure that's not true," he pressed. "Come on. Where does Ginger want to go?"

She sighed, deciding to just lay it out on the table. "Roswell, alright? I've always wanted to go to Roswell, but I've never been."

He raised his eyebrows. He hadn't expected this, but now it all made perfect sense. "I love Roswell. Great place. You'd love it."

"You've been?" she asked, wondering why she was surprised.

"Sure," he said, beginning to throw switches and push buttons to get them airborne. "I was there for the crash, so we can't go back that far-"

"So it _was _aliens?" she asked, eagerly.

He stopped with a lever in hand and grinned at her. "Oh yes. Yes, Scully, it was aliens."

"I _knew _it!" she punched the air. "Vindication! The whole thing smelled of a cover up! Never trust the government!"

He chuckled. "Maybe you're more Mulder than I give you credit for."

She shrugged. "I'm a bit of a mix, honestly."

"You know, I've only just thought...We should go to the UFO festival."

She gasped. "A UFO festival?"

He grinned. "Yes, they have one every year."

She laughed gleefully and clutched his arm. "That will be _perfect_! We can make it a little Roswell Holiday!"

"We can live dangerously," he said, beaming down at her. "Take the whole day!"

She affected an Audrey Hepburn accent. "I could do some of the things I always wanted to do."

"Like what?" he asked, affecting an American accent in response.

"Oh, you can't imagine... I'd, I'd like to do just whatever I'd like, the whole day long!"

"Like go to a UFO festival? In Roswell, New Mexico?"

"Yes, and eat chips and freak out some locals, do things that I never thought of doing before...Have fun, and maybe some excitement. It doesn't seem much to you, does it?"

"It's great." He began flipping levers on the TARDIS controls to get them in the air, but didn't look away from her. "Tell you what: why don't we do all those things together?"

"Let me go get changed!" she said in her normal accent, eyes lighting up as she ran back towards her room.

"You just got changed!" he shouted after her in his normal accent.

"I can't wear _this_ to a UFO festival!" she called back to him.

They'd both quite forgotten that Cupid was there, but with Ginger gone, the Doctor became acutely aware that the man was smirking at him.

"What?" the Doctor asked, avoiding his gaze.

"Nothing, nothing," Cupid replied. "You two are just adorable. Roman Holiday? Really?"

"We talk in movie quotes," he said, defensively. "You shouldn't read too much into it."

"She would," Cupid pointed out. "If she really didn't like you, do you really think she'd be comfortable with the two of you reenacting Roman Holiday?"

The Doctor had to admit that he had a point.

...

"We've landed," the Doctor said, when he heard her footsteps approaching. "What took you so long? You normally change faster."

"Yeah, well, I had to do something about my hair and makeup," she replied. "I love future technology. I hardly had to lift a finger!"

He looked up at her and completely lost the quick retort he'd come up with. She was standing there smiling at him with her green-painted lips, green cat-eyed glasses affixed to her face with a silver chain. She was wearing the leather jacket he'd given her over a black and green poodle skirt dress that had a little black alien sewn on it in place of a poodle. The sash around her waist was black and white polka dots that matched the flats she was wearing, and the whole ensemble was, of course, topped off with Candy - the necklace the Doctor had made for her.

"I can't believe I didn't know that the vanity in my room comes with a hair styling helmet," she said. "When do those get invented? Because I can't ever get my hair this perfect on my own." Her hair was flipped up at the ends and adorned with a black headband.

"You look..." he said, trying to think of a way to put this. "Like the genetic crossbreed of Nancy Drew and a B-52."

She put a hand over her heart, sarcastically. "That is the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she teased.

"I did tell you this is a 21st century festival, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes. "I just dig the aesthetic, dummy."

"Me too," he said. "I mean it's good, I mean-" He looked at Cupid as if to say _help me. _Cupid gave him a look that seemed to say _oh but i brought popcorn._

"Now that," Cupid said, appreciatively. "Is what I call one _hell _of a costume."

_..._

"Welcome to Roswell, circa 2033," the Doctor said, gesturing broadly to the world like a true showman while watching her to see her reaction. "We're just in time for the annual UFO Festival, but make no mistake - these aren't decorations, they're up all year."

"Erm," Ginger said, appearing mildly puzzled. "What aren't decorations, exactly?" The street appeared perfectly normal to her.

The Doctor looked around. The afternoon was gray and wet, with a bit of a slow drizzle coming down from above. "Well, the McDonald's, for starters, is-" He turned towards the McDonald's he'd parked in front of and frowned. "Odd."

"Looks normal to me," she said. "Y'know, like a McDonald's."

"No I mean it's odd that it looks normal." He took a few steps forward, looking around more. "Everything looks so...normal. It's odd."

"Maybe you've taken us to the wrong place again," she offered, crossing her arms. "I always say you're a terrible driver."

"You're definitely in Roswell," said Cupid. "Thing is, you're not in the right year."

"Of course we are!" the Doctor protested. He stopped someone passing on the street. "Excuse me? Could you point your way to the UFO Museum?"

She made an incredulous face. "The what?"

"The...the..." he stammered. "Oh." He suddenly understood. "Sorry, we got a bit lost. We'll be on our way then, thank you."

The old woman shuffled away and the Doctor turned to Ginger. "Sorry, I've got the dates wrong. Think we're too early. Roswell hasn't started dressing itself up yet, it's not quite ready. We should go back to the TARDIS, I can see what year it is. Or maybe I can find a newspaper-"

"Or I can tell you what year it is," said Cupid.

"No, wait!" Ginger said. "I could tell you."

The Doctor glanced at Cupid. "...Can she do that?"

Cupid didn't look away from Ginger. "Can you do that?"

She laughed. "Well first," she took his arm. "We've got to ditch the old man. Come on!" She dragged him away at top speed, leaving Cupid to splutter after them.

"Hey!" Cupid protested. "I wanted to see this!"

Once Ginger had gotten a safe distance away, she stopped to catch her breath.

"Alright," the Doctor said. "What do you do now?"

"I just have this...trick I've always wanted to try out. A theory I've held onto since I was a kid that I'm 100% sure would work if I ever got to test it. And now I've got the opportunity. I can tell you what year we're in if we're in America between 1936 and 2006 _without _asking anybody or consulting a news source."

"That's a very specific range," he said, extremely curious as to where she was going with this.

"Yes it is," she grinned. "You in?"

"Okay, I'll bite," he said. "What do we need to do?"

"Well," Ginger said, grabbing hold of his arm and smiling up at him. "In the words of Master Tang." She feigned an old man's voice. "Let me know...if you see...a RadioShack."

They walked around a corner when Ginger heard a familiar noise from her childhood. She looked around and saw a 12 year old boy playing with an RC car.

"Hey you," she said, walking confidently up to him. "Can you tell us where to find the RadioShack?"

The kid looked up at them, slightly suspicious. "What makes you think I know?"

"Oh come on, kid," she said. "A sweet RC like that didn't just come from nowhere. Where is it?"

The kid rolled his eyes. "Alright, just keep going past the old movie theater. You'll run right into it."

"Thanks, kid," she said, steering the Doctor in that direction.

"Impressive," he admitted. "So far, anyway."

"Kid probably saved most of his allowance for that car," she said. "RC was never my deal, but it was a big one. And did you notice the attitude on that kid? Healthy amount of suspicion, but almost no stranger danger! So that makes this America pre-9/11."

"What makes you say that?" the Doctor asked.

"Kids had no fear back then. Seriously, no fear! That kid could've passed for a kid on Stand by Me."

"That kid was _definitely _an extra on Stand by Me," he chuckled.

"Right?" she laughed.

They came upon the old movie theater, dark and abandoned after a few decades of being shut down.

"Oh now that's sad," Ginger admitted. "A place of culture reduced to a shell." She smiled. "It bet it's _seriously _haunted. That's goth as hell!"

"Hang on, I know that theater," the Doctor squinted at it. "I've been in there. Except...Yeah, that's the building where the UFO Museum is supposed to be! We're here _way _too early-"

"Nuh-uh-uh," she shook her head. "No hints. We must get to the RadioShack."

They walked in the door to a world of technology that filled Ginger with a sense of nostalgia. A helpful teenage boy came up to them when they entered.

"Hello," he said. "Is there anything I can help you find today?"

"Yes, actually, now you mention," Ginger said, confidently. "We're looking for your music tech section. Not sure yet what we're in the market for, exactly. We'll know when we see."

"Sure thing," he said, leading them right to it.

"Thank you," Ginger said, once they'd reached it. She peered at the kid's nametag. "Gene. We'll come to you if we have any follow-up questions."

The kid left them to it and the Doctor turned to her. "So what is it? What's your process?"

"Oh it's beautiful," Ginger gasped, marveling at the retro technology that was all around her. "That's a 3 Waveband Transistor Radio...and over there is a boombox and a tape deck...That narrows it down considerably. This isn't just pre-9/11, this is early 90s. _Maybe _late 80s, but I'm leaning towards 90s."

"You always do," he said, fondly.

"Shhhh, I'm not done deducing," she said. "Hey Gene?" He popped back up. "Might I try out one of these fine machines? I need to get a clear picture of their sound quality and how well they receive radio transmissions."

"Sure thing," he said again, picking the radio she'd indicated. He plugged it in and tuned it to a station. Immediately, a rock song began playing.

_"It was a rainy night when he came into sight_   
_Standing by the road, no umbrella, no coat_   
_So I pulled up along side and I offered him a ride..."_

Ginger nodded. "Heart," she said. "Okay, this narrows it.."

_"He accepted with a smile so we drove for a while_   
_I didn't ask him his name, this lonely boy in the rain_   
_Fate tell me it's right, is this love at first sight_   
_Please don't make it wrong, just stay for the night_   
_All I want to do is-"_

"Change the channel," Ginger said, getting slightly embarrassed. "Let's, uh, see how it does on another station."

He turned the knob, and Ginger relaxed again.

_"Boy Mercury shooting through every degree_   
_Oh girl dancing down those dirty and dusty trails..."_

Ginger put a hand to her heart and looked nostalgically at the Doctor. "The B-52's," they said, together.

"They do follow us everywhere," Ginger smiled. "I actually sang this one for a talent show once."

_"Take it hip to hip, rocket through the wilderness_   
_Around the world the trip begins with a kiss_

_Roam if you want to_   
_Roam around the world_   
_Roam if you want to_   
_Without wings, without wheels-"_

"Gene, could you try one more channel for us?" Ginger asked.

"Maybe Channel Z?" the Doctor joked, eliciting laughter from Ginger.

"I'm so mad that I didn't think of that joke!" she said, swatting him on the arm.

By a strange coincidence, the song that was playing on the other station was featuring one of the same voices.

_"Yeah, well it hurt me real bad when you left_   
_Hey, I'm glad you got out, but, but I miss you_   
_I've had a hole in my heart for so long_   
_I've learned to fake it and just smile along..."_

Ginger gasped, clutching her necklace out of instinct.

"What are the chances?" the Doctor said, shaking his head.

_"Down on the street  
Those men are all the same  
I need a love  
Not games  
Not games..."_

They both sang together softly, eyes locked as they momentarily forgot their goal.

_"Candy, candy, candy I can't let you go  
All my life you're haunting me, I loved you so  
Candy, candy, candy I can't let you go  
Life is crazy..."_

Ginger blinked, suddenly coming back to her senses. "Anyway, I've figured it out!" She turned to Gene. "Hey, kid, can you do something kind of weird for us?"

"Depends on what it is," he said.

"Okay, so we're auditioning for a play where we'd be portraying time travelers," she said. "I need to practice real quick. So on the count of three, could you say the name of the year with me?"

"Uh...I guess?" he said, evidently thinking he wasn't payed enough for this job.

"Okay, okay," she clapped her hands. " On the count of three? One...two...three."

"1990!" they said, together.

"Alright, Gene, that'll be all," Ginger dismissed him.

The Doctor and Ginger looked at each other - her smug and excited, him surprised and amazed. "Alright, how did you do that?" he asked.

She squealed excitedly and bounced a little. "I've always said I could tell the year just by finding 3 songs on the radio," she said. "'Roam' is the only song there that could've thrown me off - the album Cosmic Thing came out in '89, but 'Roam' didn't start charting until the following year when it hit #40 on the Billboard Top 100. Sometimes it takes a year for people to realize what's right in front of them. That Heart song came out in 1990 and charted at #16 that same year. Hearing those two songs back to back sort of helped me figure it out, but then we heard 'Candy'. It was released this year, but didn't chart until '91 when it hit #28."

"Because sometimes it takes a year for people to realize what's right in front of them," the Doctor echoed, feeling a weird significance to the phrase that he couldn't quite place.

"Exactly," she grinned. "You asked what the chances were of hearing that one? In the year 1990, not impossible but far more unlikely than the other two songs. It all led me to the conclusion that this, right here...Is a _rainy afternoon in 1990."_

He marveled at the perfectly placed reference to the very song they were discussing.

"How?" he finally managed to stammer. "How do you know exactly what position all these songs were at? You weren't even alive then and even if you were I'd say it's a stretch."

"Truthfully?" she smiled bashfully. "I memorized the charts from the very first one in 1936. I started off using them as reference points - as a kid, I was on this impossible mission to listen to all the music in the world. I suppose I never really gave up on that one. But over time it became sort of a pride thing. I memorized each chart position just in case I needed it at trivia."

"Like everything else in your life, it was about being right about something."

"Who doesn't like to be right?"

He had so many things he wanted to say to her just then, but every one of them would scare her away. He cast about for something to say that would communicate the way he was feeling about her without making her shut down. "As Andrew Wells once said: You're the perfect woman."

She blinked, feeling an uncharacteristic warmth flooding her. "And as Anya Jenkins replied: I've often thought so." She shook her head to clear it, still filled with excitement over her own brilliance. "I just can't _believe _that worked!" She threw her hands in the air then without thinking about it brought them down onto his shoulders. "I mean I knew it would, but I didn't _know _know, you know?"

They both realized at the same time how close in proximity they were. He could feel her hands through the material that padded his shoulders and his breathing quickened as he looked into her eyes. She was so excited and happy. He knew he had to stop this before it could go any further.

"We should..." He took a step back and gestured back towards the door. "We should, ah, we should go. Back to the TARDIS."

She blinked as her hands dropped back to her sides. "Hm? Right. Yeah. UFO festival. Right." She didn't really understand why she was disappointed.

They turned to the door to find Cupid grinning at them. "So it worked? Your old trick with the music charts?" He shook his head. "It never ceases to amaze me that you went through all that work..." He could see the looks of irritation. "Right. Well. Yes. I came to find you as soon as I found out."

"Found out what?" demanded Ginger.

Cupid smiled. "There's been a rash of kidnappings here lately. Thought you might want to solve it."

Ginger slowly smiled. "I sense a cosplay opportunity?"

"You want to change?" the Doctor said, exasperated. "_Again_?"

...

"God, I don't know how she dresses like this, it's so square," Ginger said, emerging from her room. She'd ditched her entire previous look and donned what was clearly an Agent Scully costume.

"You sure about this?" he asked, dressed himself in a Mulder costume.

"Yeah, it'll be fun," she said. "We'll be in Roswell, in the 90s, pretending to be Mulder and Scully. What's better than that?"

"This doesn't, I don't know," he messed with his hair, unsure how to approach the subject. "This doesn't remind you of any of those tropes you try to avoid? I mean you try so desperately to avoid romantic implications that normally you won't even go undercover with me, and now we're doing a couples costume?"

She scoffed. "It's not a couples costume."

"It's not?"

"No, of course not. It's just a bit of fun."

"Well in that case, I've got a present for you."

"You what?"

"Your first psychic paper," he said, handing her one that looked identical to his. "Now you won't have to deal with making fake IDs all the time. So we got a plan?" 

"Yeah," Ginger replied. "Start a stakeout, talk to some people..."

"Remind me again why we have to get motel rooms?" the Doctor asked.

"We're doing an authentic X-Files cosplay. We have to commit to the scenario."

...

They checked into the motel for their stakeout, getting two separate rooms - both for Ginger's comfort level and for the authenticity of their early 90s cover. They were both having entirely too much fun playing Mulder and Scully. Ginger went so far in her portrayal of Scully that the Doctor could almost forget she wasn't early 90s Gillian Anderson, and that helped him get into character as well. The only time they dropped the act (and the American accents) was when they were alone together.

"You're not flirting with me enough," Ginger complained.

He could swear he could feel his brain shorting out. "I'm not - I'm not _what_? We don't-"

"Not as _you_, you big dummy," Ginger rolled her eyes. "As Mulder. Mulder flirts more. Like from moment one. Get in character."

"You're..._comfortable _with that?"

"I'm not comfortable not being properly in character. You have to do justice to the character. Look, it's like when I played Stella back on Valentine's Day. That was much harder, though. I had to come up with a complete character from scratch, so I went a bit lazy and decided to make my jazz singer essentially a female Jack."

"I did pick up on that, yeah," the Doctor admitted.

"Yeah, so if I can hold back my nausea long enough to fake flirt with you for that kind of character, you can do a convincing Mulder," she said. "I mean, you've got 11 seasons and 2 movies of material to work with there. Commit. Don't worry about me. I'm not me, I'm Scully."

They went out to question possible witnesses, but were hitting mostly dead ends. Of the people who'd disappeared, one was a man and the other two were women. None of them appeared to have known each other prior, and the only thing they had in common were that they were tourists staying at the motel. One of their witnesses was a deaf man who the Doctor communicated with effortlessly in sign language. This threw Ginger off - she'd always wanted to learn sign.

"Why do you keep lagging behind?" the Doctor asked when they were walking to question the final witness. "Try to keep up!"

"I'm not lagging behind!" she insisted. "It's early seasons X-Files! Gillian Anderson was always told to walk behind David Duchovny!"

"Yeah, well, I don't want you to do that," he insisted. "For one thing, I thought you'd find that insulting! She was also paid less!"

Finally they went to question a final witness, one who hadn't actually been abducted but had found one of the victims.

"Sir," the Doctor said, fishing out his badge to show the guy before him. "We've heard you might have information regarding this case. We're agents Mulder and Scully with the FBI. Would you be willing to answer a few questions?"

"Of course," the man said. "If it'll help. I don't see how it would, though. I'm just another tourist."

"Can you state your name for the record, please," Ginger said, unimpressed.

"Chris Carter."

And that's when Ginger realized why he looked so familiar.

...

"Chris Carter?" the Doctor asked, when they were alone. "As in _the _Chris Carter? It can't be. That's too much coincidence. It's a very common name-"

"No that's definitely the bastard," Ginger said, definitively. "A little younger than what I've seen in TV interviews, but that's him."

The Doctor would've questioned the assertion from anyone else, but this was Ginger. If anyone would know the face of the man who created the X-Files, it was the woman who complained about him 10 times a day.

...

The Doctor and Ginger kept looking round for clues, and at a certain point Chris Carter began getting more involved in the investigation. He swore he was a writer, in Roswell trying to get an idea for a TV show. Maybe something about crime or aliens or both.

"Here's an idea," Carter asked. "Would it be alright if I used you as inspiration for the characters? Mulder and Scully has a nice ring to it. I wanted FBI in the story for sure, but now I think I want one of them to be a female character. It would be neat to have them be completely platonic."

The Doctor had to gently restrain Ginger as she went to slap him. "What did you say about them?"

"Scully," the Doctor laughed. "Can I talk with you for a moment?"

He pulled her back into the motel room. 

"You hear that bastard?" Ginger asked. "_Platonic? _Absolutely disgusting. Mulder and Scully are not and never have been platonic! It's insulting to the entire fanbase! The man is a hack who accidentally stumbled on something great!"

"You're really upset about this platonic thing, aren't you?" he asked, amused. "I would've thought you'd be glad that he thought two characters based on us would be platonic."

"I see your implication, Doc, and I absolutely refuse to give you the satisfaction. This is purely about the dignity of MSR. _Not _about us in any way, shape, or form."

"It is, is it?" Cupid asked, having teleported himself to lounge on the bed with a magazine. "If it's a purely platonic thing then how come your auras-"

"Oh if you're not going to say something helpful..." Ginger began.

...

Ginger insisted that they actually sleep in their separate motel rooms for the night - really get into the X-Files experience. She had to admit that it was agonizingly boring, though, after a while. Time progressed so slowly when not on the TARDIS and it wasn't exactly like the early 90s motel room had much entertainment for her. After a while, she finally caved and knocked on the Doctor's door.

He answered the door, still imitating Mulder for comedic effect. "Is this the part where you come inside and strip to show me mosquito bites?"

She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. "It's amazing how many times Mulder and Jack would've said the same thing in context. But you're getting better at this character." She pushed past him as he closed the door.

They both used their own accents from this point on.

"What brings you here in the dead of night?" he asked.

"Bored," was her honest reply. "Not much to do here except wait it out. All the disappearances took place after midnight, that gives us still an hour to go before we can really begin to stakeout properly." She sat down on the bed, kicking her uncomfortable shoes off and sliding to the center with her legs tucked underneath her.

"How are you, then?" he asked. "With everything, I mean. You've taken everything remarkably well."

She raised her eyebrows. "Everything?"

"Yeah, I mean," he ran his fingers through his hair. "For someone who's found out so much about herself in such a short span of time, you're remarkably stable."

"Oh is this about the alien thing?" she laughed. "That's a dream come true, really."

"How so?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Oh no you don't," she chuckled.

"What?" he asked.

"Sitting on the bed like that," she said. "I know it's your room, but we're meant to be _totally platonic_, right? Let's not be trope-y."

"Alright, then." He went with it, sitting on the floor instead with his back to her. She moved to lay down properly then, on her side facing him propped up by her elbow. It didn't occur to either of them how if a picture had been captured at that very moment, this was an exact mirror of a scene from the X-Files pilot.

"To answer your question," she admitted, slowly. "It's a dream come true, actually. You know I always had trouble connecting with people. They're cruel and pick on the weirdo. I guess on some level they knew something was different about me, and I knew it too. They just called it the wrong thing."

"The wrong thing?" he asked, still without looking at her.

"Yeah," she breathed. "See, they had the thought that I was maybe autistic. Took me to all sorts of quack doctors, even at a very young age. But I have a bit of anxiety, you know? So whenever I had to stand up in front of those doctors I just acted 'normal'. As normal as I possibly could, anyway."

"I guess you've always been a very good actor," he said.

"There's always room for improvement," she admitted. "I never blended quite right, so they told me I was autistic. But I guess I wasn't, was I? I'm an alien. They just didn't know to screen for that."

"I mean..." the Doctor said delicately, having been trying to think of a way to bring this up for some time. "You could be both."

"What?" she asked, sitting up just a bit.

"You can be Gallifreyan _and _neurodivergent," he said, turning to face her. "That's what actually started the whole mess that brought you here. That eugenics-type program I told you about? It started to screen out what they called 'physical and mental defects'. Natural birth couldn't be predicted, you could get any different combination of genes. But using Looming, you could create a being free from what they called 'deformity'. I was part of the last generation not created from Looming. The rhetoric started coming into play around the time I started having grandchildren, and it scared me. It's part of why I left. If I had been born naturally during the time of all that, I would've been persecuted. I faced no consequence because I was from an 'older generation', but I saw what they were doing and knew I wasn't welcome."

"You?" she asked. "Why?"

"This is what I've been trying to tell you," he said, feeling a great weight lifting from him. "For months now, even before I knew about your FOB watch. Remember how I asked you that day at the shops if you thought anyone besides Luke and Sky were autistic?"

"Yeah, I assumed it was because you were trying to trick me into admitting it!"

"Yes, in a way, but that wasn't all."

"What are you trying to say? Because we know now that all the weird things about me are just that my brain is irregular! I'm some sort of anomaly! I'm an alien!"

"Like I said, you can be an alien _and _be on the spectrum."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because I am," he said, softly. "It's why I recognized the symptoms in you immediately. I can hide it much better now than I could when I was a child, but I can never completely mask it. The only reason I'm able to pass is because my special interests are considered useful to society. If I were to have more niche interests or need accommodations, I would've been wiped out by zealots centuries ago. And I see the same things happening here on Earth...History repeats. People see difference and want to eradicate it."

Ginger couldn't think of what to say. "You said you...you saw the signs in me?" she asked. "What signs, exactly? Because I was around autistic kids and I was never like them."

"Well," he said, getting to his feet. He paused, having clearly been about to take a seat on the bed again.

She rolled her eyes, and gestured for him to take a seat in the center of the bed in front of her. "Go on, then."

"Like I said, it's a spectrum. It manifests differently for everyone." He sat cross-legged this time and looked at her. "One of my first autistic traits that I exhibited was the special interests," he explained. "It was so lonely at the Academy when I first got there, and I didn't really have anyone. So I started reading about Earth. I started watching Earth films, reading their books, listening to their music, learning their history...I was obsessed. Earth was such a rebellious little planet. I couldn't fathom a place where people could be so many things, and not all be governed by our rigid societal rules. Humans explored, they got their hands dirty...They didn't just watch, they lived. So I wanted to be just like that. I learned all of your languages and tried to understand you. But that wasn't encouraged. It was a weird little hobby, to care so much about the humans. So I was teased about it quite a lot."

"I understand that," she said. "My childhood felt the same way. I was much too into Harry Potter and the X-Files..."

"And you memorized the Billboard Top 100 Charts for 70 years in a row, Ginger," he said. "Don't you think that's a big red flag?"

"Yeah," she said, as this started to make sense. "Guess it is."

"I had trouble concentrating in school," he admitted. "None of the courses could hold my interest, and if they could I wasn't necessarily the best at remembering my coursework. I eventually got on top of it enough to test well and barely skate by with grades, but I was always better in practical application than on schooling."

"Same for me," Ginger admitted. "Except I never really got it together. I'm still rubbish with maths - can't make numbers make sense. But even in classes I enjoyed, I couldn't seem to make the coursework or the tests work for me."

"I didn't have as much general trouble with coordination or socializing," the Doctor said. "Mostly because I had my friend Koschei. He didn't have those problems, and helped me get through it."

"I had a lot of trouble with it," Ginger said. "Still do. Coordination is rubbish, I'm only good at understanding intent if I can compare it to a fictional pattern of behavior..."

"That's quite common with autism," he said.

"So you really think..." she swallowed. "You think I'm...?"

"Autistic too?" he said. "Yeah I really do. I was afraid you'd lash out if I said something - that you'd get offended. But there's nothing at all to be ashamed of. Lots of brilliant people are autistic."

"Like who?"

"Well, me for starters."

"Besides you."

"Courtney Love?"

She laughed out loud. "Courtney Love? Really? That's the best example you could come up with?"

"What? I know you're a fan of Hole!"

"Live Through This was a transformative record!" she said. "Doesn't mean I want to model my life after Courtney Love!"

"Fair point," he chuckled.

"Autistic, though?" she said, rolling it around in her mind. "I'm...autistic. And it's not a bad thing?"

"It's not a bad thing," the Doctor assured her. "In fact, I'd even venture to say it's punk rock."

"Well now you've got my attention," she said. "You should've led with that. How's it punk rock?"

"Because living as your most authentic self in a world that decides you're sub-normal for being born a certain way is the most potent act of political defiance I can possibly conceive of."

She gazed at him then, feeling that same warm feeling she'd felt before in the RadioShack. "That's...that's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard in my life."

"Yeah, well," he said. "I'm an old school punk. I can teach you a thing or two."

"Nothing I haven't heard before," she scoffed.

They looked at each other for a moment, both realizing simultaneously that they were sitting on a motel bed together.

"So listen-" they both said at the same time. They laughed and looked away.

"You first," Ginger said.

"No, I didn't really have anything to say," the Doctor replied. "So you win by default."

"You don't want to hear what I was gonna say. I regret it already."

"I always want to hear what you have to say."

"But this is...a bit out there. Confusing."

"Try me."

"I'm feeling..." She stopped herself, trying to figure out how to phrase this. "This is ridiculous. Sorry."

"No, go on. Please."

She avoided looking at him as she struggled to find words that didn't humiliate her. "I'm feeling different. About you."

He'd been hit with paralyzing toxins before, but nothing had ever been quite this effective. "Oh?"

She swallowed. "I don't know what it means. It just keeps happening. When it's just us. Ever since...ever since what happened on Valentine's Day."

"What keeps happening?" 

"It comes back to me in flashes?" she admitted. "I can't remember what happened that night, mostly. But then you look at me a certain way and I..."

"Look at you like what?"

"Like...that. I'm not even looking at you and I know you're looking at me like that."

"I'm sorry. I can stop."

"Can you do something else for me?"

"Anything."

"Touch me the way you did on the beach."

He was startled by this request for many reasons. "I didn't touch you on the beach."

"Yes you did. You had your hand on my face. Nobody ever touches me like that. I'd seen people do that on TV and never even _imagined _it would feel like that..."

"Like what?"

"Nice. And warm. And it made me think..."

"...Think?"

"Think is the wrong word. I felt it. Just a flash. Of Valentine's Day. The way you...I keep thinking about it when you look at me like that."

"So...you want me to...?"

She nodded. "Just like on the beach."

He was bewildered by this request but also sorely tempted. A part of him wondered if he'd be able to control himself. "You're sure?"

She nodded. "It's humiliating enough to be asking. I haven't been able to get that out of my head. I don't know what to _do _with it in there. I've never been like this." She closed her eyes.

He hesitated, completely confused by everything that was happening here. But he finally reached out with his right hand and pressed it to her cheek, just the way he'd done only days before. It was an instantaneous reaction. They both gasped simultaneously as the images flashed between them. His eyes closed, but that didn't stop them. _The light was low. A flash of red. Movement was slow. She kissed him. He kissed her back. His arm held her close to him._

Ginger pulled away. None of that had been real. Just a memory from Valentine's Day. The same one she'd continually experienced. Except more vivid. There was more detail. This time they'd both felt it from the other's perspective as well as their own.

Their breathing was ragged even though physically nothing had happened. "What was _that_?" Ginger demanded. She hated that she almost caught herself wanting it back.

"We shared consciousness," he said. "Very vividly. I felt a memory flash like that from you just once before...but that was..."

A knock came at the door and for a moment they ignored it.

"Open the door," said Cupid. 

"This might be important," the Doctor said, leaping to his feet. 

He opened the door and Cupid came bustling in. He took note of how they were both fully clothed, their hair was perfect, the bed wasn't used though Ginger was sitting atop it... "I think it's time we had a talk."

"Are we going to get some answers?" demanded Ginger.

He chuckled. "Quite. I felt a psychic shift from this room and knew we couldn't put this off any longer."

Ginger groaned. "_Please _don't tell me that this is the birds and the bees..."

"It is," he admitted. "Insofar as it applies to you."

"We haven't _done _anything," Ginger sighed. "Not that it's any of your business."

"I'm Cupid. I think you'll find that it _is _my business. I actually think it's amazing that you've made it this long and are only just reaching this point. It's spectacularly healthy for the two of you. Asserting boundaries, getting to know each other..."

"I want to know what that was," said the Doctor. "I've shared consciousness in one form or another with lots of people, but it was _never _that vivid."

"I don't know without knowing what it was that the two of you experienced, but I know you won't tell me. There are several factors that would lead to a more vivid experience. The most common being a shared memory."

"That's the one, then," said Ginger.

"That can even be amplified if it was a thought that you both had at once."

"I _was _thinking that," Ginger admitted.

"So was I," said the Doctor.

"But it'll always be stronger between the two of you," Cupid concluded.

"Why?" demanded the Doctor. "What's this all about?"

Cupid smiled. "My dear Doctor, I can't tell you what it's _all _about. But I can tell you that there is a reason. You've felt this strange pull towards each other even from the moment you met, haven't you?"

"Yes," the Doctor admitted. "I kept coming back no matter how angry I was with her at the time."

"You've sometimes felt that you're _too _similar, haven't you? That you understand each other even when nobody else does? You even sleep better when you're near each other. That one's not a given. I hypothesize it has more to do with you comfort level around each other than anything else."

"He's got a point," Ginger said. "I don't know what it is, but I know he has one."

"I know what they called it on Gallifrey," said Cupid. "It was known as Wysaella."

The Doctor reacted instantly. "That's impossible. I mean, it wouldn't be the first time someone has said that they're...I mean, I had a friend back on Gallifrey who thought...but we weren't either. Because the odds of that happening are-"

"Astronomical?" offered Cupid. He turned to Ginger. "Do you know what that word means? Wysaella?"

Ginger had never heard this word in her life. "Star Mate." Her brow furrowed. "How do I _know _that?"

"Don't trouble yourself with that just now," Cupid said. "And yes, that's the literal translation. It describes a phenomenon so rare that only the Gallifreyans have instruments delicate enough to read it. In the big bang, lots of energy clustered together to form stars. Those stars generated more energy of their own, producing life-giving subatomic particles. Now as you've probably heard, energy cannot be created or destroyed, so once these particles were generated they scattered over the known universe being parts of many types of life. But the particles themselves were created in batches. Pairs, actually. They were created at the same location at the same moment. Those particles remain bonded - quantum entangled - forever. No matter how far they travel from each other. It's so rare that these particles combine again into compatible life-forms even in the same star system that most particles never meet again. But the fact remains that they were forged in the same star."

Ginger snatched onto the phrase. "Forged in the same star! You said that before!"

"It slipped out," he said, apologetically. "I'm a romantic, I can't help it. But you remember before how I told you that you would always know the Doctor even if he had another face? That also applies to you. If either of you should regenerate - which I haven't seen happen - you'd know each other immediately even if you weren't there for the regeneration itself. You'd have to speak to each other first - there has to be communication present for the recognition to work- but you always know your Star Mate."

"I don't much like the idea of fate or soulmates or any of that stuff," Ginger said. "I like to believe we make choices."

"It's all still a choice," Cupid said. "Pairs aren't always romantic. Fry and Laurie were forged in the same star, and look at them!"

"Really?" Ginger laughed.

"I mean, sure, so were Bonnie and Clyde. One of my favorite stories is of two human lesbians who managed to find each other through the internet even though they lived in different countries and had never met previously. There's some academic discourse about whether it took them nearly a decade to realize their feelings because it takes longer to realize the bond when interacting on screens or because 21st century lesbians were, as they say, 'useless'. I had to do a _lot _of pushing to get them together. You must be the only people in history to fight the connection."

"I don't know any other way," she shrugged. "I see something, I fight it."

"The way I see it," said Cupid. "Anything that happens now is entirely up to you. Just be aware that you don't have to literally relive past memories in a shared psychic state between Star Mates. You can make up entirely new experiences. Or, perhaps, change the ending of memories you've already had." He smirked. "Star Mates have an instinctive need to share thoughts beyond words. I wouldn't fight it. I'll just leave you alone to talk, then, shall I?" He opened the door.

"Wait!" said Ginger, rising off the bed at last. "Can I just...?"

Cupid understood immediately. "Yes, of course, dear." He motioned for her to follow him.

They closed the door behind him and walked a few paces to make sure they were out of earshot.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

He chuckled. "You pulled me out here to ask me that?"

"I keep saying that you're familiar somehow, but now I know...You remind me of someone. From a long time ago."

He looked at her with curiosity and bated breath. "Do I?"

She nodded. "But that's impossible. Isn't it? You're just purposely talking like that to mess with me?"

"Ginger, that's not what you wanted to ask."

She sighed. "No, it wasn't. I trust you, for some reason, and something about you makes me want to ask you..."

"Yes?"

"I'm feeling things. For the Doctor. Things that I'm not...used to. I don't know what they are. Why now?"

He smiled kindly at her. "Well for one thing, your autism."

She hadn't expected that. "Does _everybody _know about that?"

"No, I just know you. It's not uncommon for people on the spectrum to not develop interests in these sorts of things until adulthood. But that isn't all, of course. What happened to you was..." A dark shadow crossed his eyes. "Truly awful. I'm sorry that that happened to you. I'm certain that delayed your development even further, gave you all sorts of complicated-"

"You know?" she breathed. "How do you...?"

He smiled sadly at her. "Then of course, you switched over your physiology. You were kept sick in a human body and then denied rift energy on top of that. When you feel unwell all the time, you hardly go out seeking new experiences. Though of course the most obvious new factor in your life is him. You met someone perfectly compatible and absolutely lovely just at the time when all of this was happening. Of course you're feeling things for him. It's natural. I wouldn't worry. Now, I won't give you any more opportunity to procrastinate. I look forward to our next meeting, my dear."

He snapped his fingers and disappeared into thin air.

...

She came back into the hotel room and closed the door. The two of them looked at each other awkwardly for a moment without speaking.

"You're one of the most incredible people I've ever met," the Doctor said before he could stop himself. "I wanted to say that to you earlier, but I was afraid it would scare you off."

"And I wanted to kiss you earlier," she admitted, not looking at him. "When we were in the RadioShack and we'd just found out I was right. I imagined kissing you. Just like in that flashback. I keep imagining it..."

This shocked him, but made him feel uncharacteristically warm. They both sat on the edge of the bed and looked at each other. "I actually imagined kissing you too. I like you a lot and I'm only lately allowing myself to realize that. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable."

"It doesn't," she admitted. She turned her whole body to look at him and sat cross-legged. "So why didn't you? If you wanted to kiss me, why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't want to scare you off," he said, turning to face her now. "You've just started to feel better and I don't want to push you back to how you felt before...I mean, I know that what happened in the Maze started the chain reaction that led to Christmas...I don't want that to happen again."

"You're always so considerate of me," she said, oddly touched by this. "Nobody is ever this considerate of me. But you know you're not to blame for what happened at Christmas. That was going to happen anyway. I'm more unstable that time of year, I'd had it in my head for months that I might do that."

"You did? You know, somehow that makes me feel better _and _worse?"

"Let's not think about that then," she said, hurriedly. "I like being here. With you. On this...bed. I seem to remember a time when I couldn't even sit on a bed with you without feeling awkward."

"But now we're totally platonic, so it's fine?" he teased, hearts beating fast.

She shuffled closer to him until their knees were almost touching. "Totally platonic," she agreed. "Like...Mulder and Scully level platonic..." She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. "I wanted to kiss you on the beach. That's why I keep thinking about it. The way you were touching me..."

"Like this?" He tentatively reached out to hold her face in his hand again. 

_The same images from before flashed between them. Her legs straddling him. His hand on the small of her back, pressing her to him. The urgency with which he kissed her lips. _

They gasped as those images were dashed away and replaced by new ones.

_They were standing in the castle at the Medieval Fair. She was reading his palm. Her fingers traced his lifelines and sent shockwaves careening through both of them._

_“It’s, uh…” Ginger attempted to focus. She blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, not even being able to focus enough to summon the Lady Cassandra character and talking instead in her own voice. “Well, uh…” She traced a finger over one of the lines on his palm. “The head line...It’s totally separated from the heart line. It means you’re, uh, you’re adventurous.”_

_He nodded and looked down at his hand. “Guess that’s a freebie.”_

_“And, uh...it’s sort of indicating to me that you’re controlled by fates.”_

_“Again, something you could’ve gotten from earlier conversation.”_

_She raised her eyebrows. “Nice long life-line, that’s good...And, uh…”_

_“What is it?” he asked, finally daring to sneak a glance up at her._

_“Your, uh...heart line.” She sounded awkward just bringing it up._

_“Is that the one you’ve been conspicuously avoiding?” He tried to tease her, though he was having as much trouble focusing as she was._

_“It’s, uh...well…” She snuck a glance up at him then, trying to play it off like it didn’t matter. “It, well, it just says that you, uh...That you fall in love easily....” _

_...Then they were sitting in the floor in Bathory's castle, one flickering candle between them._

_"You're not interested in me, though," she said, slowly. "I'm just a mystery. You're just holding on until you've solved it, and after that you'll get bored and move on. No sense in getting attached when people don't get attached to me. People won't miss me, so I don't miss them."_

_His smile faded a bit, though didn't quite disappear. "You're not just a mystery," he said, saddened by the implication. "You're my friend. You make things just a little more interesting. Not because you're a mystery, but because you have interesting things to say. I've met very few people of any species who could carry on a conversation with me, and you do it easily. Not that I don't have a life without you, but I was really looking forward to getting to see you today. Because I've grown rather fond of our routine, of seeing you at least once a week. Because I have, actually, gotten attached to you. And I, uh, well..." He hesitated then, running his fingers through his hair. "I missed you." He faltered a bit as she looked up at him in surprise. "As maddening as you are sometimes, I missed you while you were away."_

_She kissed him over the candle..._

_...Then Halloween. He was dressed as Wonka and she was dressed as the White Rabbit._

_"Yeah it does look a bit cold," he said, slightly concerned._

_She rolled her eyes. "That's not it. It's the stupid. Fucking. Bow-Tie!"_

_He noticed her struggling and was pretending not to be amused. "You need a little help with that?" he asked, tenderly._

_"Ugh!" she groaned, clearly getting frustrated. "Yeah, okay, I'm useless at tying things just get it fixed before anyone sees."_

_He stepped out of the doorway of the TARDIS and stood right in front of her, closer than she had anticipated when she'd asked for help in this moment of desperation. She couldn't help but notice how well the Wonka costume suited him, especially at this angle. She tried to shake that thought off. She couldn't. She threw her arms around him and kissed him...._

_...Then to the roof, that same night._

_“Very odd, you wearing your glasses and me not wearing mine,” she said, somewhat uncomfortably. “Like the roles have been flipped or whatever.”_

_He smiled. “Are you nearsighted or farsighted?” he asked._

_“What?”_

_“Your glasses,” he said. “I always wondered.”_

_“I’m nearsighted,” she admitted. “Shortsighted, some would say. I’ve never been able to see the big picture.”_

_“Ah, see, I’m the opposite,” he said. “I’m far-sighted. I always see what’s coming, but I never see what’s...right in front of me…”_

_She kissed him...._

_...Then New Years, high on brownies._

_He looked at her, a sorrow suddenly ballooning from inside his chest. "I am really glad you're feeling better," he said. _

_She smiled. "Doc, don't get sappy."_

_"I mean it. I was so scared when I thought I was losing you, and then scared that you were going to...I don't know, is relapse the best word? You know, after what happened tonight. You're my best friend. You make absolutely no sense and your brain is weird but when I think about what could've happened..."_

_Her eyes were wide as flying saucers as she gazed back at him, sitting so close to him that they could feel each other's breath. "Don't think about it then."_

_She kissed him...._

_...Then to Valentine's Day. Both infected with pheromones._

_"You've gotta stop doing that," she said._

_"Doing what?"_

_"That," she said, vaguely. "That thing...that thing you're doing. That's making me really warm right now for no reason..."_

_She kissed him urgently, pressing him into the wall._

_...Then she was floating in space outside of the TARDIS._

_She laughed. "Alright, science officer Doctor." She beckoned to him. "Come join me out here."_

_He was tempted. "Someone should stay behind in the ship...Just in case..."_

_She floated to him and kissed him, taking him by the hands and guiding him out into space...._

_...They crashed onto the floor in the TARDIS and she kissed him again, not letting him off the floor...._

_...He sat on the wet sand in his diving suit, hair wet because he'd had to abandon his diving helmet. She was dripping wet, outfit clinging to her. It was cold. Her teeth were chattering. She hugged him and her hearts were pounding. They blinked in the bright sunlight._

_"I don't want you risking your life like that. Not without me. I didn't like not knowing what happened to you, so next time you go risking your life I'm going to be by your side."_

_"Yeah," he laughed. "Because you'll be the one who talked me into it. Are you alright?"_

_She rolled her eyes. "I'm f-f-fi-f..." She narrowed her eyes, frustrated. "F-f-f..." She laughed and gave up on saying 'fine'. "F-freezing," she managed to spit out, chuckling._

_He grinned at her and cupped her face in his hand. "Well we'll just have to see about getting you warmed up, shall we?" _

_And she kissed him. Suddenly the chill of the water was no problem, as they were both producing enough heat to counteract it. He kissed her back, putting his arms around her to hold her closer. Her hands found their way into his hair._

The Doctor suddenly realized that it was really happening. This wasn't just an incredibly vivid shared fantasy. She was actually kissing him. They were completely dry, sitting there on that motel bed, and she had her hands in his hair. He put his arms around her and the images stopped, allowing them to be in the present.

Then the door that Ginger had carelessly left unlocked came open and they instantly sprang apart.

"I'm sorry, I did try to stop him," Cupid said, coming in first.

"There you two are," Chris Carter came in behind him. "I ran into your colleague out there and thought maybe I could offer myself to be more help with your investigation. What are you two up to?"

"Completely, totally platonic behavior," they said in unison. "100% without a doubt platonic behavior."

Cupid just grinned. "I'm so glad."

...

They'd agreed to take Chris along on their stakeout. The four of them waited in their locations, keeping in touch with walkies they'd gotten at RadioShack.

At one point, Ginger turned sharply around and nearly ran into one of their witnesses from earlier.

"Oh sorry," she said, still in her Scully persona. "Didn't see you there. Mr...Watkins, was it?"

"That's right," he said, looking at her strangely. "What are you doing out so late, Miss Scully?"

"It's Agent Scully," she insisted, smoothing down the creases on her blazer. "Just looking for clues to help our investigation."

"Got any good leads?"

"Agent Mulder suspects aliens, as per usual," she said.

"And do you suspect aliens, Miss Scully?"

"I go wherever the science takes me, Mr Watkins." She accidentally dropped her walkie and had to bend down to get it.

"That's good to know," he said, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief soaked in chloroform.

...

Ginger came to and found herself tied to a chair in the abandoned movie theatre. She instantly began to struggle.

"Oh good, you're awake," Mr Watkins said. "We can get started."

"Get started on what?" Ginger asked, not even bothering with the Scully persona anymore. "What's going on here?"

"I heard you humming in your sleep," he said, ignoring her comment. "What was that? Quite a strange little tune."

"You wouldn't know it," Ginger assured him.

"Hm, I guess not," Mr Watkins lamented. "I suppose you'll have time to teach me all about it."

"Will I, now?"

"Yes you will," he replied. "It's you, Scully. It's always been you. You're the one I've waited for. You're my soulmate."

"A nice story," said a voice from behind Ginger, and she felt her heart leap as she recognized it to be the Doctor's. "However I know for a fact that she can't be your soulmate."

"Agent Mulder, you've found us," Watkins said. "It's no matter. You're too late. But I'll indulge you. Why can't she be my soulmate?"

"Because she was mine first."

...

The Doctor managed to get her free, and together they defeated Watkins and got all the hostages freed safely. Chris Carter announced before they left that he had a perfect idea for a pilot of a TV show.

"It probably won't last very long, and it's certainly not a passion project," he said. "But it'll get my career started."

Ginger seemed like she was going to try to hit him again, so the Doctor had to quickly steer her away.

"You know, I still can't believe he kidnapped all those people trying to find a soulmate," the Doctor said. "I mean, yes, it's good none of them were hurt, but that's a little extreme."

"I dunno," Ginger mused. "The universe is a lonely place. Maybe some people just snap."

He tilted his head and looked at her skeptically. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"_Fuck _no," she admitted. "I'm not responsible for every idiot with an ego who thinks I'm his soulmate because I was nice to him _one _time!"

"So where are you two off to now?" Cupid asked.

"You're weirdly invested in us, has anyone told you that?" Ginger asked.

"I'm always on the side of true love," Cupid began.

Ginger winced. "Don't call it that."

"Should we give you a ride back?" the Doctor asked Cupid.

Cupid could see an obvious ploy to get personal information out of him. "Thank you, but I can find my own way."

They said goodbye to him and went back to the TARDIS. The moment the doors closed behind them, the Doctor frantically turned to Ginger.

"How are you? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Ginger laughed. "No. Not even a scratch. I'm fine, really."

"Let me at least check for concussion-"

"I don't have one," she assured him. "But if it makes you feel better. I have one condition."

"What?"

"We go to the UFO festival after."

...

The Doctor was very careful this time to get the time and place right. He landed them in 2033, right in time for the annual UFO festival. Ginger had gotten back into her alien-themed outfit from before, she'd just not bothered with makeup or hair this time.

"I'm afraid your tricks won't work here," he said. "RadioShack closed all its stores a few years ago."

"Oh no!" she said, a little sad. "But I suppose that's as much on me as on anyone else. I, too, do the online shopping. Besides, my trick only works up until 2006 anyway."

He watched her in the light of the setting sun as they walked directly in front of a street lamp with an alien face on it which had just come on. A nearby business had a radio in the outdoor seating area that was playing an old Cranberries song.

"So weird that they'd be playing this song," Ginger chuckled, self-consciously. 

"Would've made more sense in the era we came from," he agreed.

"Not really," she said. "This album wasn't out in 1990. And even so, this song was released as a promotion single in 1993 but never had a video and never charted."

"So how does it come on your radar then?" the Doctor asked, gazing at her with the utmost affection.

"Because I like the Cranberries," she said, simply.

_"And I didn't find the words_

_To say I love you_

_And I couldn't find the time_   
_To say I need you_   
_It wouldn't come out right_   
_It wouldn't come out right_   
_It just came out all wrong._

_Oh you're spinning me around_

_My feet are off the ground_

_I don't know where I stand_

_Do you have to hold my hand?_   
_You mystify me..."_

"Listen," he said. "About what I said before, when I found you with Watkins. About you being my soulmate, I mean. It was all very heat of the moment, feel free to ignore it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"

She kissed him directly in front of the street lamp, surprising him so much that all he could do was allow his hands to flap uselessly at his sides. "What was that for?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I like you. I wanted to do that. But let's talk about it, shall we? Because it's like kissing a brick wall. I don't want to kiss a brick wall. If I wanted to kiss a brick wall, I'd go kiss that alien mural over there." She nodded over to an alien that was spray painted on a nearby wall. "Which, actually, might not be such a bad idea. He's got a sort of roguish quality. Could be handsome in the right light."

This annoyed him for reasons he couldn't explain. "What light? No light? _He _isn't even very well drawn. He's just sloppy paint lines." 

"Aw," she smirked. "Is someone jealous of graffiti now?"

"No!" he insisted. "I'm not _jealous-"_

"The TARDIS told me you got jealous of a cat."

"I didn't get jealous of the cat either! I just don't like the way this mural smirks at you, is all. Don't know what you see in him."

Ginger smirked. "Alright then! If you don't want me kissing every inanimate green man in the city limits then I'm gonna need a little more."

He didn't know what to say to that. "I just don't want to push you. You have a tendency to get scared off when we get too close."

"I'm not gonna get scared," she said.

"I'm just worried," he admitted. "You were so grateful to me for not doing anything on Valentine's Day, so what if I'm only the good guy when I don't go along with this? What if this is the wrong thing to do? I mean are you _sure _you're not concussed or shaken up by the kidnapping-"

"Doctor, you checked me for concussion," she reminded him, patiently. "And you know I don't _do _shaken up. I do annoyed, which I was."

"I'm just worried about the morality of this situation. I wouldn't want to take advantage-"

"That's ridiculous. I'm here. In _Roswell_, of all places! I know it's been hard for us this far and I'll take responsibility for that. But I'm not being mind controlled, I'm not high, I'm not concussed, and I'm not doing this because I think I'm supposed to. I'm standing here saying that this has been on my mind for a while, and I'd like to see where it goes. Look, we don't have to if you don't want to. You gave me the choice, now I'm giving it back to you. We can forget about it. But I'm starting to like this."

He smiled very slowly. "You are?"

"Yeah, you great big intergalactic moron!" she laughed. "So do you wanna try it again?"

"Only if you're sure-"

She had to stand on her toes and pull him down a bit to reach him, but she kissed him again. This time he put his arms around her and kissed her back.

She didn't run away.

...

The Doctor felt incredibly fond of her as he watched her marvel at the various alien-themed town adornments. Everything from the alien street lamps to the UFO murals impressed her. They went to every possible attraction and gift shop, and Ginger couldn't help but be mildly amazed that the same abandoned movie theater had become the UFO Museum (which she proudly proclaimed was now her favorite place on Earth besides Cardiff).

They were in a gift shop where Ginger found a pair of light blue fleece trousers with UFOs on them when she suddenly squealed in delight and snatched a hat from a rack.

"This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she said.

It was a green laplander hat with alien eyes on the front of it and two big antennas bobbing from the top.

"Do you want it?" he asked, trying not to laugh.

"I want this hat," she nodded. "It's seriously the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

He took it from her and put it on her head so that it flattened down her hair. "It was made for you. I'll get it for you. Not very punk rock, though."

"What do you mean?" she asked, offended. "Of course it's punk rock! Me wearing this hat when I know it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen in my life is a form of rebellion! I'm wearing something that I know makes me look stupid purely because I like it! What is more punk rock than not caring what people think?"

They made their way to the counter to pay for it and Ginger managed to distract the Doctor by pointing to a poster of an alien smoking a joint that said 'Take Me to Your Dealer' while she paid for a black bra with little green aliens on it that she'd found while he wasn't looking.

The bored 20-something behind the counter seemed to have got a vibe off them. She pointed at a small tin that was selling alien themed green condoms that promised an 'out of this world experience'."

"Oh no," Ginger laughed softly, glancing back at the Doctor to make sure he wasn't seeing this. She was relieved when she saw he'd gotten sidetracked by all the poster options. "No, no, you've got the wrong idea."

"I'm just saying," said the girl. "Best to be prepared. Safety, you know?" She leaned forward to whisper more conspiratorially. "They're green apple flavor."

"They have _flavors_?" Ginger whispered back.

...

Ginger wasn't normally one for McDonald's, but she made an exception for the UFO themed one the Doctor took her to. Afterwards they walked in front of an alien themed motel that definitely had just opened that year.

"We should get a room," Ginger said, hearts beating fast.

"What?" the Doctor wasn't sure he'd heard that right. "If you're tired, we could just go back to the TARDIS-"

"I'm not tired and I'm not trying anything," she giggled before stopping herself abruptly from giggling. "Look, it's just...Can we? Two beds though."

...

It was a good thing that there was so much to look at in this hotel room, because they were both anxious to avoid looking at each other. The walls were covered in a silvery chrome material, and the lone window was a small hatch that you had to open with a wheel. The television was set into the wall across from the beds, which were both decent sized and had galaxy print sheet sets. The lights were all neon green and washed everything with an eerie glow. A green lava lamp sat on the bedside table. Ginger looked closer and realized a little green man was floating in it.

"It's an alien in a test tube," she said, gleefully. "This place is so cool." She gestured at the lava lamp with her thumb. "Can I have one of these?"

"You can have whatever you want," he said, amused at how much she liked this place.

"I'm gonna go change," she said, nodding to the en suite bathroom.

"You've got a change of clothes?" he asked, surprised.

"I always carry a change of clothes, you know that." She swept off to the bathroom with her bag. "I'm an old veteran of the theatre, so normally I wouldn't care so much about changing in front of other people. But I'm trying to be considerate of your feelings."

"I appreciate that," he said, sitting down on the bed to the left. "Look, you're not gonna..."

"What?" she called back.

"I'm just making sure you're not, y'know, taking your cues from movies on this one."

"What cues?"

"Just...you know you don't have to go and put on something, y'know..." He began to feel a little hot around the collar. "Something lacy and revealing."

She poked her head around the door. "Oh. I don't have anything like that. Should I have?"

He felt relieved. "No, that's good, I just want you to be comfortable."

"Comfortable," she repeated. "I didn't really aim for that." She came into the doorway and it was clear that the towel she was wearing was covering for her wearing nothing underneath. "I got half-way through changing into pajamas, but then I thought maybe I was supposed to go ahead and get naked, but then I got self-conscious about it and a little bit cold, but then, y'know, I always carry my towel, so..."

The Doctor just stared at her, at a complete loss for words. "This is all wrong," he said.

"What?"

"You keep talking about what you're _supposed _to do like there's a guidebook. I'm sorry if I've given you the impression that this is what I want-"

"Yeah, you're right," she sighed. She sat down on her bed, keeping the towel wrapped around her. "I'm sorry, I'm so stupid. I'm misreading everything again?"

"You're not stupid," he said. "And..." He hesitated before sighing. "If I admit that you're not totally reading the situation wrong, will you promise not to run out on me?"

"I'm...not misreading it?" she repeated, as if the words didn't make any sense. "So you'd want..."

"If you did. But you're rushing. Ginger, why are we here? Why aren't we back on the TARDIS?"

"It's like...look. I'm new at this, which I think is obvious since I'm making a complete fool of myself. I just wanted us to have time together and not go back to a sentient home who could judge us while we're figuring that out. And, actually, I'm _so _glad I made that decision, because the TARDIS would be making fun of me _so _much right now."

He had to admit that made a certain amount of sense. "You're not making a fool of yourself. You're just not being completely yourself. You know you _can _be yourself with me, right? Cupid sorta gave me the idea that maybe you were acting extra nice to me lately because you thought I only like that side of you. That's not true. I like who you are."

She almost appeared sort of flattered by that. "You do?" 

"Yeah. So if I do something wrong, I want you to yell at me. Don't hold back."

"That's a promise," she replied, smiling now.

He smiled too, relieved. "Let's find you some clothes, alright? We can stay here if you want, but I'd rather you be comfortable, alright? We should go a _lot _more slowly than this. See what you're comfortable with."

She smiled. "Okay."

He walked to the bathroom and picked up her bag. He produced her brand new pajama bottoms and a shirt that he hadn't taken the time to look at but which seemed to be made of a soft material. He threw them at her. "Here. Put your clothes back on."

...

She returned a moment later, legs now adorned with spaceships that clashed with her old green-and-black striped alien shirt and new alien hat. He couldn't help but smile. "Better. That's much better."

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, looking away quickly. "Just didn't realize that I'd grabbed that shirt. That's the one you were wearing the first time we met, isn't it?"

She looked at him fondly. "How could you possibly remember that?"

"You made an impression," he shrugged, smiling. He chuckled. "Remember when I thought you were the alien?"

She laughed. "I guess it turns out I was. Anyway, no making fun of the shirt. It's my favorite shirt."

"Because it's mildly ridiculous and alien themed?" he asked.

"That," she agreed. "And it's my most comfortable shirt." She came and sat on his bed in front of him. "It's really soft. See?" She took his hand without thinking and had him feel it.

"It is...uh..." he was suddenly feeling very warm. "A very soft shirt, yes."

She suddenly blushed as well, realizing what she had done. "Alright, enough of that," she said, dropping his hand. "Hands off, Casanova."

"So how've you enjoyed your Roswell Holiday?" he asked, after a beat.

"This is the best place," she said, glad of the change of subject. "It's perfect. Thanks for taking me here."

"It lived up to expectations, then?"

She smiled, coming round and sitting on his bed. "Being in this place...It's the closest I've ever gotten."

"To what?"

"To this feeling," she said. "This feeling that I've been chasing all my life."

"Which is?"

"Hallucinating Pluto."

He chuckled. "The B-52's song?"

"I somehow got it in my head as a kid that true happiness would feel like Hallucinating Pluto. But no matter what I used, I could never find it. This is the closest I've ever gotten. I love it here. In Roswell."

"No matter what happens, we'll always have Roswell."

"Hey can I ask you something?" she asked.

"Anything."

"Could you teach me sign language? I always wanted to learn."

"Which variation? Earth has hundreds of variations of sign to start with."

"Pick your favorite," she shrugged.

They sat there for a time, Ginger having a bit of trouble getting her hands to do what she wanted them to do.

"That's alright, don't get frustrated," the Doctor said, gently. "It was hard for me to learn too. Autism comes with a bit of mild dyspraxia. Maybe if I...maybe if I showed you?" He reached out his hands, waiting for her permission.

She hesitated, before nodding. He gently took hold of her hands and helped guide them to make the signs they were working on. But they weren't really looking at her hands anymore, they were looking at each other and feeling uncharacteristically warm.

"So why didn't you ever learn?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I'm always a little put off having to do things with my hands. They don't do things right. My hands and my brain don't communicate right. And I guess maybe I'm a bit ashamed? I mean how can I communicate with my hands when I was told I have to keep them quiet..." She trailed off and he decided not to press the issue.

"Here," he said. "Would you like it if I taught you how to say 'alien' in ASL?"

She brightened instantly and he took that as a yes. He got to work teaching her the sign.

"I still can't believe we inspired Mulder and Scully," she said.

"And totally platonic activity."

"That Chris Carter," she said, under her breath. "Blind as a bat."

"What was that?" he asked, still holding her hands but both of them having forgotten what they were meant to be doing.

"Nothing," she smiled at him. "Only...Chris Carter is trying to write us now, right? And he's writing us as platonic. That man has never known what he was talking about. So if he thinks what's going on here is totally platonic activity..."

"Then it must not be," he finished for her, cursing his hearts for beating so rapidly.

"Exactly," she said, feeling jittery herself. "But we don't have to call it...anything. This is just...exploratory. Seeing what happens. Totally scientific curiosity."

"What...exactly did you have in mind?"

"I...dunno?" she said, almost a little frightened by the idea. "I've never...even considered anything like this before."

"You haven't?" he teased. "The nakedness seemed premeditated."

She rolled her eyes. "But not very well thought out. I wouldn't begin to know where to go from there."

"Could I try something?" he asked, timidly. "Just...for science?"

She hesitated like a deer in the headlines, before swallowing hard and nodding. He leaned in close, his hands traveling away from hers and past her wrists then down her arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His hands finally settled again at her waist, gently holding her as she looked into his eyes with eyes wide as saucers.

"That's some...good science," she said, uselessly. The material the shirt was cut from was thin, so she could feel his fingers through it as if they were burning holes right into her skin.

"Haven't really done anything yet," he smiled, amused by her response.

"You've done more than anyone else ever has," she said. It was a totally innocent statement on her end, but it made him sad.

They sat there for a moment, too close to each other and trying to steady their breathing. The Doctor then raised a hand and toyed with the antennas on her alien hat. "This is gonna have to come off..." He mused. He gently removed the head covering. "Ah. There you are." They smiled at each other for a moment before he smoothed down her hair with both hands and tucked a strand behind her ear. She tilted her head and leaned into the palm of his right hand. She had to be nearer to him. It felt as if everything depended on it.

"This is some...really good platonic activity," the Doctor breathed.

"Exactly," she said, just as softly. "100%...platonic...activity..."

Then they were kissing again, timidly, like an exploration. She grabbed his hand, the one that was still resting near her neck and intertwined their fingers just for a moment. 

He broke away. "That is...a really great shirt," he said.

"And this is...really great platonic activity," she gasped.

"So what's the verdict? Was the experiment successful?"

"It was...and I really mean this...out of this world. But...but maybe...we should do it again? Y'know, for science? The scientific method requires repeat experimentation to replicate the results."

Somehow her talking about science made him kiss her again, this time with more urgency. The air itself seemed to crackle with electricity as they pressed as close in to each other as they could. He was leaning into her so that she was beginning to fall backwards onto the pillow when she broke away.

"Nope, I don't think so," she said, firmly.

"What? Too much? We can stop-"

"No, please don't," she said, wrapping her legs around his waist and using them to steer him so he was the one lying down with her on top of him. "That's better."

"I agree," he said, breathlessly.

Ginger found herself unable to get close enough to him, no matter how tightly she pressed herself against his body. She realized that she was shivering which was odd because she’d never felt quite so warm in her life.

“I,” she stammered. “I need to…” She threw off her shirt to reveal the small cami that was underneath then went right back to kissing him.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he said. “But isn’t this a little fast for you?”

“Nope, not fast enough,” she said. She kissed him again harder, letting his body heat wash over her. She took his hands and put them on her waist. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but hands _ on, _Casanova.”

He didn’t need telling twice, and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her as tightly as she could to him. He started to push up her cami out of instinct before remembering himself and stopping.

“What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly. “Why did you stop?” She kissed him again then whispered. “You can touch me. I’m not gonna combust. Or I might, I’m not sure yet.”

He took that as a positive sign and recommenced pushing up her cami. He ran his fingers along the bare curvature of her spine, smiling into her kiss as he felt goosebumps rise on her skin.

“You can take it off,” she said softly. 

“You sure?” he queried. He wasn’t used to this level of permission from her.

“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t,” she murmured back. He still hesitated so she jokingly took on her Audrey Hepburn accent again. "Will you help me get undressed, please? This is very unusual. I've never been alone with a man before, even with my dress on. With my dress off it's most unusual. Hm, I don't seem to mind. Do you?" He only chuckled in reply so she groaned with frustration and dropped the accent. “You’re useless and I’m just sitting here burning up because it’s _way _too hot in here. Let me help you...” She pulled her torso away from him and stretched her arms to the sky. She pulled off her cami and smiled sheepishly down at him as if realizing that she’d been overhasty and perhaps made a mistake. 

There was something so alluringly innocent about the look in her eyes that it stunned him into silence. He knew this would be the part of the movie where the man looks at the woman’s exposed body, but he was unable to tear his eyes away from that uncharacteristic look of innocence and vulnerability. It took his breath away. 

“What...what are you looking at?” she asked.

He propped himself up against the wall while still allowing her to straddle his waist. He reached out slowly to brush her hair behind her ears and caressed her cheek. “You,” he said. “Just when I think I know you, you go and surprise me again.”

She chuckled, all tension leaving her body at once as she relaxed. “I’ve surprised myself, if you want to know the truth. Guess the moral of the story is that neither of us should really presume to know me.” She took a shaky breath. “It’s just surprising because I’ve never...felt like this. Before.” She groaned and closed her eyes, cheeks reddening as she realized what she’d said. “Which sounds so cheesy. I don’t mean it like...I just want to do this.” She gripped the base of his tie and pulled him slowly to her so that they kissed gently once more. The contact was brief; she pulled away slowly and let out a breath that she didn’t know she’d been holding but kept her eyes closed as she leaned her forehead against his. “Which is new. I’ve never wanted to do that before. With anyone.”

“It’s not so unusual,” the Doctor assured her in a low voice. “A lot of autistic people don’t develop interests in...these sorts of things until they’re adults. If you want to slow down and not take it further than this, I understand.”

She opened her eyes as the notion occurred to her and leaned back to get a proper look at him while still maintaining her grip on his tie. “You’d want it to go further than this? What’s...further than this?”

He didn’t immediately notice that this was an innocent question because he was so used to her becoming defensive at the thought of anything physical happening. “I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I shouldn’t’ve implied anything - I don’t want to make you uncomfortable-” He began scrambling to untangle himself from her and avoided her gaze in case even that was too intimate.

“Wait,” she said in a small, confused voice. “What are you doing? I’m not...uncomfortable.” He paused and looked slowly up at her. “I would...rather you stay. Where you are. If that’s alright?” She added this last part hastily.

His spirits soared as he realized that she was really here with him. After all this pushing and pulling between them, they’d finally found themselves ready to be in the same place. He couldn’t believe this was happening. “Yep,” he said, voice getting slightly high-pitched. “More than alright. What would...I mean…” He swallowed hard, attempting to steady his voice. “What would you like to do?”

She hadn’t considered next moves yet and cast her eyes to the ceiling as she tried to figure this out. She tensed again.

“It doesn’t have to be anything,” the Doctor said hastily.

“No I mean it’s not,” she sighed, frustrated with herself. She looked back down at him and smiled, but there was a touch of apprehension in that smile. “I want to do _ something _ , but I…” She swallowed hard and shook her head. “...Don’t know what it _ is _? If that makes sense? I don’t - I’ve never-”

“-Done this before?” the Doctor finished the sentence for her. “Yeah I know. You’ve said.”

“Not - not just that…I’ve never even…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word. 

He squinted, trying to figure out what she was trying to say. Then his eyes got wide again as he figured it out. “Oh? Like...had fantasies?” He was embarrassed as well to say the word. She nodded, cheeks red as her hair. “I mean that’s not...that’s also not surprising.”

“Because I’m autistic?” she said, echoing his earlier words.

“No. Because you’re you. I don’t think you know how to know what you want because you sincerely believe you won’t get it. So why would you even think about something like this?”

She pushed up her glasses. “I want...you. I think. But I don’t know how. I don’t know...how to do any of this. I’d need you to help me figure that out.”

“You think?” he focused on the word. “That doesn’t sound very sure. I need you to be sure before we do anything else.”

She took a few deep breaths and just looked at him as she tried to clear her head and figure that out. She finally nodded. “I am. Because I...like...how that felt. Before. And I want to feel more of that. I’ve never felt...good...before. I feel good when I'm around rift energy, but that was sort of even _better _than rift energy...When we were doing that, I felt good. So I want that. Again. Please?” She felt silly and awkward and a bit out of her depth. “Tell me…” She took another deep breath. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do?”

The way he was looking at her was confusing. She didn’t quite know how to handle it. Nobody had ever in her life looked at her with eyes like that. They shone like the sun and looked at her as if they saw her as she was and found nothing lacking. 

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” he said. “This is up to you. But I can offer suggestions, if that’ll help? Admittedly, I’m a bit out of practice…”

Oddly, that made her feel better. Less self-conscious, certainly. “Alright,” she agreed.

“Alright,” he repeated. “So...Glasses on or off? I just know you like the way mine look-”

“I never said that!” she protested. She tried to get defensive but they both just ended up laughing about how ludicrous this situation was.

“You said you have a thing for Harry Potter,” he pointed out. “And I know how you react to my glasses. And I know you’d probably rather have yours on so you can see properly, and I want you to be comfortable. Just know they’ll likely get all fogged up and end up slipping and sliding everywhere. But it’s up to you.”

She considered this. “On...for now…” she said, begrudgingly.

He nodded. “Alright, that’s a good start…” He reached out timidly to touch her and ended up gently rubbing both of her arms. “We can start here again. Don’t want to scare you off.”

Even just that simple touch was enough to send warmth flowing through her. “What now?” she whispered.

“Now…” he said, running his right hand up her arm to rest on her shoulder. He stopped. “I’m going to touch your neck,” he warned her. “If that’s alright. Just gently. No squeezing. I promise I’m not trying to hurt you.”

She gave him a look of surprise and considered this carefully. She finally nodded. “Thank you. For asking.”

“Don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to do,” he assured her. “And wouldn’t try something like this without giving you warning. Don’t want to lose another hand.”

His phrasing struck her as strange. “Another-” she began. 

But her words caught in her throat as his fingers climbed her neck and moved around to the back of her head. They tangled in her mane of ruby red hair, but he quickly dislodged them from the strands. He wasn’t aiming to pull her hair or cause her any pain. Instead he used his hand to tilt her head upwards to look at him.

“We can start kissing again,” he proposed. “I know you were enjoying that. I was too. But I’ll only kiss you if you want me to.” It was as if a light had flickered on behind her eyes and he knew that he’d hit upon something that she was enthusiastic about. He bit back a smirk. “But maybe that’s not a good idea…” he teased. “Maybe I completely misread the situation.”

She was so unprepared for teasing that she immediately took him at his word and thought he was being serious. “No, no you didn’t-”

He leaned in close to her so that their noses were almost touching. She could feel his breath on her skin and it seemed to call her closer. She tried to lean into him but the moment he perceived motion he leaned back a bit to keep that slight, almost imperceptible distance between them. 

“I think I got it all wrong,” he said, enjoying this much more than he’d anticipated. “You think people are _ gross _ ...You wouldn’t like it if I did _ this _…” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. The moment their lips made contact, it was as if the whole world fell away. There was nothing but the two of them and the layers of clothing that still separated them in this suffocatingly hot room. It was only when every cell in his body was screaming that he remembered that he still needed to breathe and reluctantly drew away. He noticed that when he pulled away, Ginger moved forward instinctively as if pulled to him by a magnet. She kissed him again, but the contact was briefer.

The Doctor started laughing against her lips. “You really don’t breathe, do you?”

She laughed as well, coming back to herself. “I don’t need to breathe as often as other people do. I was trained to hold a note for a _ very _long time. We’re talking that long solo on ‘Bad Boyfriend’, of course, but I also started out with Beautiful Soup.”

He laughed harder. “What the _ hell _is Beautiful Soup?”

“Get on my nerd level, Doc,” she shot back. “It’s an Alice in Wonderland thing. _ And _a Gene Wilder thing. So as we say in Wonderland: ‘Eat Me’.”

She’d been trying to be funny and sassy, but they both realized at once the accidental double meaning she’d innocently walked into.

He tried his best to maintain a neutral expression, but his eyes were betraying his amusement. “Maybe later. I’m still working my way through the appetizer.”

Her eyes got wide. “Wha-”

He kissed her lips once more, just long enough for her breath to catch in her throat once more. It was released in a short burst when he drew away again. 

“You’re still wearing your necklace,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

And she was. The little amber-enclosed Sour Patch Kid still swung against her chest. “I never take it off,” she said, earnestly. “Except to shower.”

“...What if I were to take it off?” he proposed. She considered this and climbed off of him, turning her torso so that he could have access to the clasp. This uncharacteristic display of trust was almost too much for him. Here she sat, bare-skinned and vulnerable, so close to him with her back to him. It was almost inconceivable. 

Her hair fell almost to her shoulders now and he swept it away from her neck so that he could unclasp the necklace from the back. She looked at him over her left shoulder as he lifted it away from her and placed it neatly on the table. He kissed her neck and her breath hitched once more. 

“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” he said apologetically. “Given fair warning at least. Don’t want you to think I’m trying to go ‘all vamp’ on you, to use your phrase.”

“Why did you stop doing that?” she asked breathlessly. “That was good, very good. Plus, you know I like vampires.”

He couldn’t help but smile. She was the strangest woman and he liked her all the more for it. He pressed his lips to her neck once more, this time correctly interpreting the way her breathing shuddered as a sign of pleasure. He couldn't help but notice that she smelled faintly of lavender. He turned his attention to her bare arms. He remembered that those now-smooth arms were once riddled with scars. He felt a twinge in his hearts and determined to never let her be sad like that again. He continued kissing her neck, then moved to her shoulder, then to her arms.

Then it became time to make further moves and he wasn’t certain how far he should go. Up until now, he’d been aware that her entire upper body was unclothed, but hadn’t allowed himself to look. That had been fairly easy, seeing as his entire focus had rested in her eyes as he’d tried to make certain she was comfortable. But you can only ignore a thing like that for so long, and he knew that she was particularly uncomfortable with being looked at as a sexual prospect.

“What would you like me to do?” he asked her, thinking a simple question would be best.

“I don’t know…” she whispered. “I just…”

He thought of how best he could phrase this. “I could keep kissing you here or go back to kissing you as we were before...or I could, you know...kiss you in other places? I just need a road map to what you’re comfortable with. If this is moving too fast-”

She turned back to face him. “What do you mean by other places?” she asked. “I’d need, ah...A demonstration.” She tried to give him a coy smile, but her nerves were showing through. She climbed back onto his lap. “So I’d know for sure.”

That was encouraging. He kissed her neck again and slowly moved lower, lingering at her collarbone just a moment longer before plunging lower still. He made it a point not to look as he kissed her breast.

“Your hearts are beating so fast,” he observed. 

“You’ve stopped again,” she complained, eyes closed and face tilted to the sky.

“Would it be alright if…” He moved his hands until they rested against the bare skin of her chest, seeking out the erratic beating of her hearts. 

“I want to feel yours,” she announced suddenly.

This caught him off guard. “M-my what?”

Her eyes were open again and her hands were fumbling with his tie. She managed to get it off before tearing through his other layers of clothing until he, too, was sitting bare chested. She suddenly realized what she’d done in her moment of frantic impulse. She reached with shaking fingers to lay her palms against his chest. And suddenly, she could feel it. That erratic stuttering beating of his two hearts that felt so in tune with the rhythm her own hearts were dancing to. She felt some primal urge within her to connect to this, to feel closer to those heartbeats. She pressed her ear to his chest, trying to hear it closer.

“I didn’t know it sounded like that,” she breathed. “I never even cared to know...If I could dance, I’d go wherever this led me…”

“You’re not making sense,” he reminded her, though that was one of the qualities he liked best about her. Despite this, he thought he understood. “Can I hear yours?”

She nodded and reluctantly drew away. She stroked his cheek tenderly and he looked into her eyes as he lowered his ear to her chest.

He sighed, melting into the familiarity. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard two hearts like this. I’d forgotten what it’s like...that connection. You felt it too. It’s more intense than I remembered.” He tried his hardest not to get emotional. “Nobody else would ever be able to understand...”

She looked down at him and used a finger to tilt his chin up so she could kiss him gently. “Sounds like you’re the one who wants to stop now?” she said.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to lose this. You trust me?”

She didn’t hesitate, she only nodded. 

He kissed her chest again and felt her hearts skip. He took one of her breasts into his mouth and sucked on it. She moaned involuntarily as his tongue ran over her nipple. He moved back again. “Good?” he asked.

She laughed, exasperation evident. “You’ve stopped _ again _, Casanova.”

He turned his attention then to the breast he’d been neglecting and put his mouth over it. She made a noise deep in her throat like she was trying very hard not to moan again. His right arm snaked around her waist, and he pressed a hand into the small of her back. He held her tighter against him and continued to kiss every exposed inch of her abdomen as he began moving to lay her against the sheets so that he could straddle her instead.

But she quickly realized what he was doing and wasn’t having any of it. “Oh no you don’t. Already told you that you won’t get me on my back. But don’t stop doing what you’re doing.”

He adjusted his approach to accommodate her need to sit atop his lap. He kissed her stomach. “Have you decided how far you want to take this yet?”

“I want to see how far it can go,” she whispered in a shuddering voice. “I’ve never tested these limits before.”

His fingers were suddenly resting on the elastic waistband of her blue fleece pajama bottoms, slowly flicking at them as if testing that boundary. “Do you want to try something? You can tell me to stop at any time.”

“Is this like the firetruck game?” she teased. “Where I say red light and you say ‘firetrucks don’t stop at red lights’?”

“What?” he was genuinely bewildered by this comment. “No! What sort of awful thing is that?”

She shrugged. “Weird game the kids used to play when I was growing up. _ Thankfully _nobody tried that on me.”

“Alright,” the Doctor said. “So we’re completely discarding _ all of that. _I’d like to try something to see if you like it. Or we can go back to kissing. Either way, it’s up to you what we try and you can say stop at any time.”

“I like this game,” she smiled playfully. “Deploy your strategy.”

He felt an overwhelming fondness for her at this choice of words, and decided to go ahead. His fingers slowly made their way beneath the waistband of both the pajamas and the undergarment she was wearing beneath them. They lingered a moment at her hips, familiarizing themselves with the unfamiliar territory before moving on. He finally found the hallowed ground he’d been searching for, but stopped once more. 

“Is this alright? You can tell me to stop.” He tried to joke. “Or is there a password?”

She let out a short laugh. “It’s in parseltongue…”

He smiled at her. “I’ll remember that for later…”

She allowed his fingers to open her and gasped audibly. He stroked the soft flesh at her center and took it as a positive sign when it turned slick and warm at his touch. 

“How does that feel?” He leaned forward to mumble in her ear. “You can tell me to stop if it gets to be too much.”

“Indescribable,” was the only word she could manage. She felt unsteady and reached out to grip his shoulder as hard as she could. She kissed him harder still and pressed herself close to his chest. She was feeling a heat that she’d never felt before, and she couldn’t get enough. He kissed her back and continued to stroke her faster, becoming progressively more aroused with every sign that she was reciprocating. His fingers drifted upwards until they hovered just on the edge of making their riskiest decision yet. 

She let out an involuntary cry when his fingers found their destination and began massaging her slowly, gently. Her breathing quickened as she experienced sensations that she’d never felt before.

“You alright?” he asked her. “Not too much?”

“You can…” she panted. “Go faster.” The words surprised her because she didn’t know she was going to say them.

He took that as permission to be less gentle. He wasn’t being rough by any means, just picking up speed and not worrying so much about her not liking it.

“How does that feel?” he asked in a reverent whisper.

She moaned and hated herself for it. “Good, very good,” she gasped.

“You still trust me?” he said. “Because if you want, I could start on that main course. I could see if my Parseltongue is still up to scratch.”

Ginger was fairly naive when it came to any actual acts being practiced on herself because the idea of anyone being genuinely attracted to her was so unthinkable, but she still knew the basics of what innuendos were hinting at. “You’re comfortable with that?” she asked.

“Are you?” It was important to him that she give the affirmative before he could proceed. 

His fingers hadn’t yet stopped their rhythmic rubbing and she stifled back another moan. “Yes, alright? Yes, just whatever you want to try, I trust you.”

And that was enough to almost send him over the edge. He focused on his next move carefully. He couldn’t get her onto her back, which would be optimal. She wouldn’t be comfortable with the lack of control or vulnerability with that sort of position. He removed his fingers from her and she felt their loss so profoundly that she helped him tear away the final layers of fabric that she was wearing.

“I need you to lean back,” he said gently. “Not all the way. You can still keep yourself propped up. It would be easier if we could have your back against the headboard, but I can make it work without boxing you in.”

She liked him so much at that moment that she did what he asked. She leaned back slightly and propped herself up by her elbows. He climbed out from beneath her and took hold of her knees. 

“Tell me to stop at any time,” he said again. "I don't want to do anything you don't want me to do."

She took a deep breath and watched as he ran his hands along her legs. Her skin seemed to burn where he touched her. He pried apart her knees and slowly placed himself between them, his fingers still lightly tracing her inner thighs. She almost hated how much she wanted him, and for that reason tried her best not to let him know. But he knew. That was what propelled him forward.

He kissed her legs, slowly working his way to where he wanted to go. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally buried his face in her. His tongue enveloped her and seemed to shoot shockwaves of fire careening through her body. She didn’t even try to suppress the cry that bubbled up in her throat. His tongue explored her delicately as if she was the finest thing he’d ever tasted and he wanted to savor her. He gripped her hips and probed her with his tongue and she did her best not to give in to the arching of her back and fall back into the sheets. Instead she reached for him, tangling her fingers in his hair and holding him in place. 

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against her.

“I want you,” she purred. “Oh my god just…” And she realized then what she wanted.

She reached down and gripped his shoulders, pulling him into more of a sitting position. She tossed him against the headboard.

“What are you doing?” he asked, breathlessly.

She fumbled with his belt and pulled away his trousers, all without looking away from his eyes. “I want you,” she said, kissing him. She pulled away and frantically began searching her bag that she'd left on the floor.

"What are you looking for?"

"Nice girl at the store sold me condoms. So you can blame _her _for the premeditation! Aha!" 

He caught the package she threw at him, smirking at the little green man on the front of the black sleeve. "Alien themed?"

"Apparently it's green apple flavored?" she said, climbing back on the bed. "Did you know they came in flavors? Like why? Do you eat them after? Is it like a new form of biodegradable?"

At first he thought she was joking and being sarcastic like usual, but he realized with a wave of affection that she was serious. She could be so adorable sometimes. She kissed him. "Put it on."

He didn’t need telling twice and got to that at once. She was a complete distraction while he was attempting to put it on, insisting on continuing to kiss him through the entire ordeal. 

“Listen I hate to be the one saying this, but I’d get this thing on faster if you stopped distracting me,” he laughed. “Turn on some music?” He nodded to her jacket, knowing her ipod was in there. He’d recently modified it to have a speaker, per her request.

She switched it on and laughed when the first song that came on was “Swallow” by Emilie Autumn. “I didn’t do this on purpose, I swear. It’s _ too _thematically relevant.” She switched through a few songs before finally landing on one she could live with. She chuckled. “Remember this one?”

“I know it,” he replied. “But is there a reason why you’re laughing.”

“Right,” she nodded. “You were probably too high to remember this. The first time we met. You mentioned this song. I was too uncomfortable and said we absolutely would _ not _listen to it...”

He listened to the next few bars of “Hammering in My Head” by Garbage as it all came flooding back to him. 

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” he asked her a final time. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into going faster than you’re comfortable with.”

“Doctor, I'm perfect. This is where I want to be. I don't want to go slow anymore."

She finally succeeded in finding a song that worked for her: "Man Didn't Walk on the Moon" by Nerina Pallot.

“We have all the time in the world,” he pointed out. “There’s no rush now. Just tell me what you want.”

She straddled him again and kissed him hard. Her breath was hot on his skin when she fervently whispered once more. “I want you to touch me.”

His world was spinning, but he could do at least that much. His arms circled around her again. “Now what?” He genuinely didn’t know how far to take this with her, and didn’t want to presume anything.

“I want you,” she whispered back. “I want to feel you…” Her mouth formed around a word but she realized in time what she was going to say and stopped herself. 

He smirked. “I can do that.”

She kissed him again and the smell of her hair nearly made him dizzy. She pressed her chest against his, intermingling their heartbeats which finally succeeded in syncing perfectly. 

He suddenly became aware of the lava lamp in his peripheral vision. "Little hard to do this with the little green man staring at us, isn't it?"

"Why?" she chuckled, pushing her hair out of her face. "You self-conscious?"

"No," he insisted.

"Really? Because it sounds to me like you're still a little self-conscious. Maybe afraid the little green man's gonna rate your performance? Maybe he'll just steal me outright? I mean, I _do _have a well-established thing for aliens."

"I'd say you do," he said. "But don't you feel a _little _watched...?"

Ginger thought this was just adorable. "He's probably just a scientist," Ginger posited. "He's probably collecting data on Gallifreyan sexuality. He's just doing his job." She bit her lip. "So let's not make it easy for him."

She tugged on the covers until they were both under them, propped up against the headboard.

"There," she said. "Better?"

She was a strange sight to behold in the glow of the neon lights. She was a strange being, wreathed in shifting shadows that followed her wherever she moved. Her hair was a halo of fire that lined a pale porcelain face that was washed out by the green lights.

"You're so...otherworldly," he breathed, not knowing how else to describe it.

These words struck her in a way she couldn't describe. She could expect a man in his position to try 'beautiful' or 'pretty' or even 'lovely'. She wouldn't believe them and would probably recoil from them. But 'otherworldly'...There was a word. A powerful word. A word that was so very specific to her, that she hadn't properly realized it was the word she'd been waiting to hear.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him slowly. The kiss was gentle at first, but began to deepen. They awkwardly grappled with each other for a moment, becoming a mass of bumping heads and tangling limbs. They both laughed at this. 

“Glasses off?” Ginger proposed as hers kept sliding off.

“Agreed,” he said, tossing his aside.

She laughed and kissed him again, this time with her glasses off. With their glasses off, they could only move purely by instinct and perhaps it was for this reason that their bodies finally found each other. 

Her breath caught again as she felt him slide inside her. The two of them looked at each other, both wondering how exactly they got there and how on Earth it had taken them so long to get there in the first place. 

“Are you alright?” the Doctor asked again. It was good for him - oh _ god _was it good for him - but it wouldn’t be if she wasn’t also enjoying it.

“What do I do now?” she asked, her emerald green eyes boring into him earnestly.

“What do you want to do?” he asked her.

She considered this briefly before allowing the burning in her legs to command her to begin moving. He closed his eyes and let out a moan. She kissed him. He kissed her back.

Ginger felt a rush of endorphins creeping up toward her brain and immediately felt herself detach from her body. It was the strangest feeling. She continued to move and to feel all the sensations, but her mind was just loose. Floating above it. Gone. As if the person who was feeling these incredible feelings was a completely different, foreign person.

The Doctor sensed that Ginger’s movements had changed and opened his eyes again. “Ginger,” he said softly. He reached out and gripped her hips. “Ginger, where’d you go?”

She came crashing back down to Earth like she imagined the original Roswell spaceship had all those decades ago. “Nowhere,” she said. “I’m here. I’m with you.” She hadn’t stopped moving over him in all this time.

“Are you alright?” he asked her again. 

"I'm perfect."

"We can stop if it's too much-"

“Don’t stop. I just got lost for a second.”

“If you think you’re gonna get lost again, you can hold onto me,” he assured her. “Tight as you can. I want you to stay with me. You don't have to be scared."

Their eyes met. "I'm not scared of you." She kissed him and they melted into each other.

_I'm not scared of you. _She'd said those words to him so many times, but it had always been defiant, argumentative. Those words were an assurance that he wasn't even capable as registering as a threat to her. But the way she said the words now...Softly, with all pretense stripped away...She'd taken words that were meant to make him back off and turned them into words that invited him in. She wasn't scared of him. She trusted him. He was the one, specific person she trusted to be this close to her, and she was letting him know that.

His hand crept up her thigh and began stroking her again, adding even more pleasure which made her move faster. She stopped kissing him and looked into his eyes. She felt as if she was close to losing control, so she took the Doctor’s advice and reached out to grip his shoulder. 

“Slow down,” the Doctor whispered.

“Not good?” she asked him.

“No, no, very good,” he assured her. “I just need you to slow down. Really be in the moment. Enjoy yourself. There’s no rush.”

She took his advice and slowed down, really letting herself feel everything. She leaned her forehead against his.

“Talk to me,” she commanded, almost in a whisper. “I need you to talk to me. Keep me here. I might float away.”

“W-what should I talk about?” he asked hoarsely.

“I don’t know just talk. You’re good at that.”

He was finding it difficult to think of things to say - all of the blood was being diverted from his brain to his extremities. 

“I need to know you’re here,” she whispered.

“I thought I was proving that well enough,” he teased. She gripped his shoulder tighter and he tried to think of something to say. “Hey, stay with me now…”

“_ Ffffff… _” She bit her lip to stop herself from making any more noise. She was embarrassed enough with the situation without being so demonstrative.

He smirked, completely aware of what she’d stopped herself from saying. She said that word often, though never before in this context.

“Nice solid Scottish word,” he teased. “The one you almost said just now. There were variants of possible roots throughout Western Europe, of course, but the first actual recording of that word in its modern spelling was in Scotland.”

“Oh that’s good,” she said. “Yeah, keep talking about words. I like that.”

“God I really want to make a _ ling _ual joke but I can’t find it. Ah, well. Timing would’ve been off anyway. It would’ve been better when we were still using tongues...” 

She laughed. “We really are something, aren’t we? One might almost buy into all this talk about fate…”

He laughed as well, shivering through another rush of endorphins that flowed to his head. “Must be what it’s like to reside in the secret parts of Fortune.”

She moaned. “God, talk more Hamlet to me. That helps. Just don’t try talking about ‘nothing’, because I studied Shakespeare and I know what that means.” 

“You get off on the nerdiest stuff,” he said breathlessly.

“You’re one to talk,” she said back. “I _ am _the nerdiest stuff.” She tightened herself around him.

“_ Ohhhh yes _,” moaned the Doctor. "_Ginger..."_

_ “Doctor-_” moaned Ginger as they continued to move together. "I..." She found herself unable to speak.

She pushed him until he was flat on his back and took his free hand in hers, squeezing it tightly as if it was her only tether to this reality. Every square inch of her felt alive. She screamed out as she was swept up in a burning tidal wave and her body lost all semblance of control. He felt her body react and came just seconds after her.

She collapsed on top of him and listened to the still-erratic beating of his hearts. He moved to put his arms around her but she rolled off of him. For a moment there was just silence apart from their heavy breathing. 

"How was that?" he asked, finally.

She smiled to herself. "Better than rift energy..."

“You’re quiet,” he said.

She chuckled and gazed at the ceiling, affecting the Audrey Hepburn voice once more. "Soooo happy..." He laughed as well. She switched back to her usual accent. “My words are gone,” she groaned. “My brain ran away with the spoon. That was out of this world, I mean it. Besides you’re one to talk. Unusually quiet Doctor.”

“I think I’ve been struck by lightning.” He’d felt things like this before, but this was different. Every cell in his body was alive. He was exhausted, but intoxicated by her presence. He had to wonder if this is why everyone made such a big deal about finding your Star Mate. He wondered if it always felt like this.

Ginger felt this way as well. “I think I’m dead,” Ginger said. “I mean that in the Elizabethan way, because I think I understand that now.”

“Now we’ve just gone from Hamlet to Much Ado About Nothing.”

“Exactly,” she grinned. “That _ was _ much ado about _ nothing _ .” They both started laughing at once. “Oh my god, I…” She shook her head. “I don’t even have _ words _to describe what just happened. I’m at a complete loss for vocabulary.”

“Give me your hand,” he said.

“Doctor, we’ve been at this for an hour and a half,” she complained. “You can’t possibly still want more.”

“I don’t-” he began to protest. “Wait, an hour and a half?”

“Well, actually it was more like an hour and twenty-three minutes, but who’s counting?”

He rolled over to look at her. “You’re amazing.”

She chuckled under her breath. “Yeah I bet I was.”

He detected a hint of self-deprecation in her voice. “I don’t mean because of that. This has nothing to do with what we just did or how you make me feel. It has nothing to do with me. This is about you. And how you’re amazing. In the truest sense of the word.”

She smiled wryly. “You mean that I’m confusing and bewildering? Because that’s the presumed root of the word. It’s why you call a labyrinth a maze. It’s meant to be disorienting.”

“I do mean that,” he said. “You’re absolutely perplexing and you make no sense. Now give me your hands. I’m going to teach you how to say what we just did.”

She rolled over onto her side and gave him her hands.

“I’ll give you the sign in ASL first,” he said. ”I’d start you on Vescarian Sign because theirs is the punniest, but I’d have to explain why it’s funny so best leave til we have brains again.” He played with her fingers for a moment, arranging them into the correct formation. “You know I do mean it. You _ are _amazing. The way your mind works...I’m so honored that you even choose to talk to me because you always have the most interesting things to say. I could go the rest of my life without doing this with you again and I’d be completely fine. But if you never spoke to me again...That would be devastating.”

He was looking intently at her hands as he taught her how to make the sign, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was only looking at his face.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, noticing this.

“Nothing.” 

They laughed again. He looked back at her, really taking her in. She noticed the way his eyes lingered on her and for once she didn’t look away. She gazed at him with eyes that were bright and filled with a curious calm and an honesty that he had never seen from her before. She smiled slowly but without her usual reluctance or reservation. Her defenses were completely down and it was like they were finally allowing themselves to see each other. He smiled back at her, feeling the breath leave him once more.

“You’ve got to stop looking at me like that,” he teased. “I’d almost believe that you like me.”

“I do,” she admitted. “I always have. That’s always been what scared me.”

“Why are you telling me that?” he asked, caught off guard by the honesty. 

“Because nobody will ever believe you,” she smiled. “I mean come on. You’ve got a dumb stupid face with dumb stupid side-burns. And I’m a frigid ice queen. Tell everyone. Boast and brag. But nobody will ever believe you.”

That was more like her. He briefly enjoyed the teasing before nerves settled in again. “This is the part where you get angry and run away, right?”

She blinked at him slowly. “No. I don’t think it is.”

“You’re not going anywhere?”

“No. If anything, I should worry about you going away. You got what you wanted from me. Now you’ll go.” 

“Didn’t I just finish telling you that I’d be devastated if I never saw you again?” he assured her. “No I’m not going anywhere.”

She observed a sudden change in his eyes. “You seem sad.”

“No. No, I’m happy. Right now, I’m happy." He did his best Audrey Hepburn, which wasn't very good at all. "_Soooo happy_..." They both laughed and he stopped with the accent. "But tomorrow things will go back to normal, won’t they? You’ll go back to looking at me the way you usually do.”

She raised her eyebrows. “The way I usually do?”

“Yeah, you know...Confused, suspicious, annoyed. It was all fine before because you looked at everyone like that...but now that you’ve looked at me like this-”

“Like how?” she cut in.

“I’ll put it this way,” he said. “You don’t normally look at me for this long. You look away the moment I catch you looking. But sometimes you stare back and this isn’t like that. This is the first time you’ve looked at me that I haven’t felt like you’re trying to pick me apart. This is the first time I haven’t felt vaguely intimidated. You usually push me away with a look...but this is you letting me close to you. We’ll just wake up tomorrow and you’ll be defensive again. And it’ll be sad. You'll wake up and remember who you are and your Roswell Holiday will be over. Nobody ever talks about how Roman Holiday ends. It'll be sad.”

She smiled at him. “I won’t make promises for how I’ll be tomorrow,” she said. “But whatever happens, we’ll always have Roswell. And that’s special." She did the Audrey Hepburn voice one more time, just for the hell of it. "I will cherish my visit here, in memory, as long as I live.” She laughed again, going back to her regular accent. “Hey is that what the kids mean by ‘playing doctor’?” He laughed too, but she quickly got serious again. “I did always like you. I meant that. Against my will, maybe, but I suppose we rarely have a choice in who we like. I liked you, but I never _ imagined _that we could…”

“Do you regret it?”

She shook her head. “Never. This is us in Roswell. I want to hold onto this. It's like I said, no matter what happens, we'll always have Roswell.”

He echoed her. “No matter what happens, we’ll always have Roswell.”

“I was lying,” she whispered. “Before. When I said I’d never considered it before. I hadn’t considered it in any graphic detail or imagined it going this far but...sometimes you say something and...I don’t know...I like you. I never like anyone the way I like you.”

She felt herself fading and didn’t even notice when her hand was suddenly holding his. He, however, definitely noticed.

"Did you find the feeling?" he asked, circling back around to their earlier conversation.

"Just almost," she breathed, completely relaxed. "I'd need to experiment further, because I'm convinced most of this feeling right now is endorphins_."_

"We can experiment further," he agreed, on board for that.

"I could exist here," she sang, under her breath. "I could exist here..." She fell asleep before she could consider completing the thought.


	39. My Little Alien

Ginger awoke the following morning and for a moment didn’t even bother to open her eyes. This was unusual. She was the sort to immediately bolt upright and assess her situation, but this morning she felt a curious calm about her, an unusual relaxation. It took her a moment to remember why. She smiled, but immediately dashed the expression away. She needed to have a moment to regain her composure, so pretended to be asleep. She listened intently, but all was quiet. She rolled over onto her side, unable to keep the smile from crossing her face for even a moment longer. She opened her eyes. The smile faded.

He wasn’t there. She rolled over the other way to check the extra bed she’d originally planned to sleep in. She had a habit of tossing and turning and thought perhaps he’d gone over there. But that bed clearly hadn’t been slept in and was empty as well. She made eye contact with the dark, hollow eyes of the alien in the lava lamp, which seemed to be the only thing resembling life in the entire room.

She frowned and sat up, pulling her knees to her chest underneath the covers. She scrambled for her glasses, which had been hastily discarded in the commotion. She placed them on her head and peered through the open bathroom door. Empty as well.

This was just what she’d been afraid of. This was why you don’t get vulnerable with anyone - they always run off! Men, she reasoned, will just go off and leave you the moment they get what they want-

The outside door opened and the Doctor came through, carrying a few bags.

“Good, you’re awake!” he smiled as he closed the door. “Hope you weren’t waiting long…” He looked at her properly. She’d clearly just been tense because her body was relaxing - clearly she was relieved to see him. But she resented herself for being happy to see him - you could see that in the way she avoided looking at him. She fidgeted with her hands so she was evidently troubled about something. “I’m sorry. What did I do?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, cagily. 

“Did you miss me?” he teased. He noticed the reluctance in her eyes. “Oh you _ did _,” he breathed, putting the bags down. “I’m sorry. Did I worry you?”

She tried to joke it off. “I thought you’d gone all Angelus on me. Gone all soulless. Would serve me right for trusting anyone.”

He understood that underneath the reference there was a grain of truth to it. “I wouldn’t run off on you. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” He reached behind him to find a piece of paper taped to the door and pulled it off. “I did leave a note?” He crossed the room to hand it to her.

** _Gone to get breakfast_ ** , it read. **Back soon.**

“Oh,” she said, feeling silly. “I haven’t been awake that long. I didn’t even notice this.”

“It’s my fault,” he said, a note of guilt entering his voice. “I could’ve waited until you woke up then we could’ve gone together. I just wanted to surprise you.”

She couldn’t bear to stay on this subject anymore. “You got me breakfast?” 

“Yeah,” he said, picking up the bags. “I know you’re starving. I am too. Humans would be, but we need more energy than them so...I got us a platter. Care to share?” He pulled a tv tray from the cabinet under the nightstand and settled it on the bed. “Don’t get up. Breakfast in bed?”

“I’m not familiar with the concept,” she said.

He knew that she was, but hadn’t ever been given the luxury herself. He set up the largest feast she’d ever seen for two people. “We’ve got here chocolate chip pancakes, blueberry muffins, bacon, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns. I’ve also got two kinds of omelettes which I realize now might be overkill on the eggs.” She kept her eyes on the food as he finished putting it out. She didn’t say anything. “I really wasn’t abandoning you. I wouldn’t break your trust like that. It means the world to me, I hope you know that.” She still didn’t speak. “Would it help if I…” He slowly reached out as if to take her in his arms, but she rebuffed that by moving away slightly before he could touch her.

“Sorry,” he said. “Too soon? I can take my portion of the food to the other bed-” He started to put together a plate of food.

“No please don’t,” she said, finally looking at him. “I mean...stay. I just haven’t figured out how to be with you yet.” She realized the poor choice of words. “I don’t mean _ be _with you, be with you. I mean like I don’t know how to act. Something’s changed with us and I don’t know what we are now.”

He looked back at her. “We’re whatever we want to be. We don’t have to give it a definition if you’re not comfortable.”

She nodded and realized that she was, in fact, extremely hungry. She picked up a fork and got to work on her eggs. “Mmmm this is good."

This was a good sign. "Good enough to forgive me?"

"Don't push it." She kept eating while he stood there awkwardly, unclear as to his instructions. "Aren't you eating?" she asked after a moment. “You said you were hungry.”

He started as he realized he’d been staring at her. “Right. Yeah. Starving.”

He sat beside her and they ate in silence for a moment, but it was a comfortable silence. She chuckled softly to herself.

"What?" he asked, a slow smile creeping across his face.

"Nothing. Just thinking about Star Trek."

"Are you going to be mean about it again?"

"I'm not mean about it! I appreciate it! Sure, I don't think it's necessarily my thing, but it's not bad either. It's cute. As someone who grew up doing school theatre, I can appreciate the obvious limits of a limited budget."

"So why were you thinking about Star Trek?"

"I don't know _why _I was thinking about it, though it may have something to do with this alien-themed hotel room. I was just thinking...Is the Enterprise in a sort of reversed 'Objects in Mirror are Closer That They Appear' situation?"

"I don't...understand that reference."

"It's about cars," she explained. "Don't look at me like that, I've ridden in a few, that's all. When you're in a car, the side mirror always warns you that the in it look farther away than they are."

"And that applies to Star Trek because...?"

"Every time we see a shot of space, it looks like it's floating right past these little blinking stars. But logically, that can't happen. Stars are massive. I know, because you've showed me some up close. So either they're in some alternate reality where stars are tiny little winking things that you can float right past without harming your vessel in any way, or the Enterprise magnifies the appearance somehow to make them look closer for...some reason? Objects in Window are Farther Than They Appear?"

"I think there's a third option," he said. "And that's that you're overthinking it."

She smiled at him. "Bit too much?"

"Nah," he said. "I like the way you think. It's very entertaining."

"Yeah, well, I'm aiming my comments at a very specific audience," she said. "They wouldn't have broad appeal." She smiled. "I get the impression sometimes that you think I hate Star Trek."

"You just joke about it a lot, is all."

"Yeah, well, I don't bother to joke about things that I don't see any value in," she said. "Sometimes my slide remarks are just a way of saying that I like something."

She shifted slightly so that she her arm was pressed up against his. She’d done this intentionally, but showed no sign of it. He knew this was intentional and knew that it was special. She was autistic, after all. That meant she was only selectively able to handle touching. The fact that she was sitting so near to him and allowing this small contact was a big sign of trust. He didn’t ruin it by acknowledging it.

"There are better ways of saying that," he replied. "Like, for instance, _saying _it."

She chuckled. "I didn't say it was a perfect system."

“Did I get it right?” the Doctor asked. “The food, I mean. I tried to make sure I didn’t pick anything you wouldn’t like. No whole nuts or sausages or ketchup…”

She smiled at him. “You do listen!”

“It’s another sign of autism, odd food preferences,” he acknowledged. “For instance, I hate pears. What else do you not like, just for future reference?”

She thought about it. “Coffee and alcohol. Oh and I _ despise _American and Pimento cheese!”

“I’m glad I thought to get us tea,” he smiled. “And I only used natural cheddar.”

They finished their breakfast.

“What’s in the other bag?” Ginger asked, noticing one he hadn’t unpacked.

“Oh I forgot!” He hopped to his feet. “I got you a change of clothes. Didn’t think you should have to do a walk of shame, seeing as there is nothing to be ashamed of.” He tossed the bag at her. “You can have a change of clothes, but don’t feel like you need to comb out your hair. I actually sort of like it like this.” He couldn’t help but tease her, but he did genuinely like the way her bedhead framed her face. “It’s like a work of art that I made myself.”

The tiniest hint of apprehension entered her eyes. “But that’s not _ all _you like about me, right? That I look like...this. I mean it’s weird to say, but you’re clearly attracted to me-”

He took the TV tray off the bed and laid it gently on the floor next to it. He reached over smoothed her hair down with his hands, holding her face between them so that she had to look at him and really see his sincere intentions. “That’s just a bonus,” he assured her. “I don’t like you because I’m attracted to you, I’m attracted to you because I like you.”

This seemed to soothe her anxiety but she was a bit squeamish about one thing. “Can we _ not _say you’re attracted to me? Let’s like...pretend those words didn’t come out of our mouths.”

“Why?” he teased, letting go of her. “You’re attracted to me!”

She shoved his shoulder with the palm of her hand. “No I’m not!” she laughed.

He laughed too and shoved her with his elbow. “Yes you are!”

“Am not! That’s _ suuuuper _gross and I don’t have feelings!” 

“Oh you have feelings,” he said. “I got to see the proof of that last night!” He mimicked her Scottish accent. “‘Oh Doctor, I’ve never felt this way before!’”

She gasped. “I did _ not _say that!” 

“You did, and a lot more than that! You _ like _me!”

She hit him with a pillow. “You take that back!”

“I will not!” he protested. “You _ like _me!” He threw a pillow at her.

“You are _ such _a child!” she protested.

“Well you started it,” he sulked. “No but really _ you _ started it! _ You _ said we should get a hotel room! I got us two beds but _ you _were the one who sat down and came on to me!”

“Did not!”

“You did!”

“Oh you’re impossible,” she protested, though she was definitely amused. She sat up straighter, keeping the blanket pulled tight over her chest, and began digging through the bag of clothes he’d given to her. The clothes were some of her most comfortable, even if not her most attractive pieces of clothing. He kept his eyes carefully averted from the few glimpses of skin that he was able to see through this process. They still weren't at a point where he was certain she was comfortable being looked upon. He mused that she was a bit like an old god in that way. To gaze upon the deity might kill you instantly, because no mortal could withstand it.

“Oh and I’ve actually got one more surprise for you!” he said. “I found this under the bed. Figure the last guest must’ve left it…” He got up and removed a rather beat up old guitar from beneath the bed. “So I’ve got a surprise for you.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Another one?”

He grinned and took the TV tray off the bed to put it on the floor before plopping down at the end of the bed. She propped herself up on the pillows and watched him intently.

He began strumming. 

_ "My little alien, you picked me up _

_ You put a probe inside my heart it flies _

_ You light up the sky _

_ Oh, you get me high _

_ You, took the melancholy from my eyes _

_ You light up the sky..." _

She giggled and bit her lip, eyes shining with a fondness she couldn't explain.

_ "When you go up, up, up, up away _

_ Take me back, I can't stay _

_ Run out of luck, luck, luck _

_ When it breaks, feel the smack, run away _

_ My little alien, you picked me up _

_ You put a probe inside, my heart it flies _

_ You light up the sky _

_ Oh, you get me high _

_ You took the melancholy from my eyes _

_ You light up the sky _

_ Before I met you the Earth was simply flat _

_ I took it all for granted, I don't want that _

_ You're incandescent, I had been led astray _

_ You took me to the Milky Way..." _

He played the song through til the end, reveling in how happy this moment was for them. It was like their own private bubble where everything was good and nothing could hurt them.

She giggled as he finished the song. "You wrote that?"

He'd assumed she knew the song so was surprised by the comment but chose to go with it. "Uh-huh."

She tilted her head, smiling as if she knew better. "Who really wrote it?"

"Kate Nash," he admitted.

"I loved it," she said, leaning forward to kiss him over the top of the guitar. She pulled away.

“I guess you figured out how to act with me,” he said, a bit bemused.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “You know what?” She climbed out of the bed. “I’m gonna get dressed.”

"Oh well that's no fun," he teased. He immediately realized he'd been flirting which he knew she didn't like. "Sorry, I didn't mean...of course you can get dressed. I shouldn't talk to you like that-"

She gave him a peck on the lips to shut him up. "God, you're adorable sometimes. It's infuriating." She went back to throwing her clothes on.

He was completely unprepared for that and didn't know how to respond. "Are we..." He cleared his throat. "...going somewhere? Because this trip actually worked out alright in the end, so maybe letting you pick the destinations isn't so bad. Where do you wanna go next? The Northern Lights? Star Rain Canyon on Ethylstraton Four? Oh! I know! The Restaurant at the End of the Universe?"

She laughed and glanced at him. "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe?"

"Why not?" he asked excitedly. "Perfect ending to an Roswell outing."

"I already gave you a perfect ending to a Roswell outing," she said breathily as she crawled over the bed again to give him another kiss. "Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Doc? We don't need it. Sounds a little bit too much like a date."

He was surprised to feel a little twinge of disappointment. "Right, yeah," he said, carefully keeping the smile plastered on. "Us on a date? That would be ridiculous. Can I just ask though, what's the difference is between what we've been doing here and a date? I know there is one, because I didn't think this _was _one, but for future reference."

"Formalities, mostly," she said. "I try to live without them. Not that I'm easy-"

"That's the truth," he said.

"But you're lucky I'm not clingy," she finished. "You're a nomad, same as me. We understand each other. I know you don't want it to get complicated any more than I do."

"Right." He felt as though that one noncommittal word was somehow a lie. "Where to, then?"

"Cardiff."

“Cardiff?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Because I think the endorphins are wearing off and my headache is coming back. I think I somehow burned off a lot more of the artron energy in my system. Plus, I just think being around so much rift energy might make the experience next level. So if we’re gonna go for round two, I think we should go to Cardiff. Think that would be even better there.”

He slowly realized what she was saying. “Round two?”

“Come on, Doctor. We’re trying to be scientists. We can’t prove the hypothesis without repeat experimentation.”

"Repeat experimentation," he echoed. "I like the sound of that. But it's not a date."

She laughed. "Yeah, not a date. Just an experiment."


	40. The Astronomer

It turned out that who they were in Roswell was _very _similar to who they were everywhere else.

"Mmm that's better," said Ginger, twirling around in the Welsh sunlight. "Yeah, I was running low on rift energy. Much better." She turned abruptly to the Doctor and placed her hands on either side of his face. "Okay, ready to go now."

He wasn't entirely certain that he was understanding her. "Go where?"

"I think you know," she said, with a crooked grin.

"IHOP?" he offered. "No wait, we just ate...Oh you were just talking about hitting all the haunted spots on Earth, did you want to start with a castle? Or maybe the Winchester house-"

Ginger was frustrated but amused by this. She pushed him backwards into the side of the TARDIS and kissed him hard, psychically transmitting several greatest hits from their night before with that single touch. When she was satisfied that he'd seen these thoughts, she slowly drew away and looked at him meaningfully.

"Oh," he said breathlessly. "Yeah. Right. Go."

"Alright," she grinned. "Back inside the TARDIS then."

He was still slightly bemused as she took him by the hand and led him inside. "Why are we going inside?"

"Because I don't want to get a citation for public indecency." She closed the doors and moved to kiss him again.

"Isn't this a little fast?" he asked.

"You keep saying that. Is it too fast for you?"

"No, no, I'm on board."

She looked him up and down and repressed a grin. "I can see that. So what's the problem?"

"I'm just waiting for you to have second thoughts," he reasoned. "That's the thing about you, you know. You always have second thoughts. And third thoughts-"

"But it's really when you get to fourth thoughts that you know you have trouble," Ginger teased, rolling her eyes.

He disentangled himself from her. "I'm just saying, we need time to adjust to this new thing with us. I mean, you're _very _interested in this, almost out of nowhere. And now we're in Cardiff and rift energy has made you high before-"

She held up a hand. "Because I wasn't used to it. I'm not high. I'm clear-headed. I feel great and I think you could help me feel even better. You sure did last night."

He couldn't formulate a response to that. "I'm just saying, maybe we should go-"

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to. I want to stay here. I said I wanted to experiment in Cardiff and I still do."

"I just think it's a little soon..." He couldn't think of anything to do or say that wouldn't lead to his resolve weakening. He pretended to check a monitor for something.

Ginger was a little put out. This wasn't how she'd thought this would go at all. She began sullenly toying with a lever on the TARDIS console.

"Don't touch that," the Doctor warned.

"Why?" she asked. 

"Just...don't."

"Alright, then," she said, not looking at him. "Give me something else to touch then."

He was still shocked every time she flirted with him. He didn't quite know what to do with himself. She had to admit to a certain amount of surprise too. She hadn't believed she was capable of any of this. But she enjoyed the way he reacted when she said a really good line.

"Alright," she teased, when he didn't answer. "I'll touch all the buttons I want then." She flipped a lever.

"I said not to touch that!" he said, with a hint of anxiety.

"I don't think you really know what it does," she shot back. She flipped another lever.

"Well you _definitely _don't, so how about we don't do that?"

He flipped both levers back down. He caught sight of her across the TARDIS console, hands gripped on another lever. She looked at him defiantly, daring him to make a move. It was an old fashioned standoff.

"Don't," he said, slowly.

"How about you make me?" She raised her eyebrows in an obvious challenge. "Think you can stop me? Come on, if you think you can take me."

He was having fun in spite of himself, but to get properly into the scenario he knew he couldn't show it. "Ginger, there are better ways of getting my attention-" He wondered why he had a flash of deja vu at those words.

"Well I wouldn't have to be trying so hard to _get _your attention, if you were _giving _it, now would I?" 

He instantly knew where this was going and surreptitiously pressed a small button on the console that was meant to turn it off so it could be cleaned without worrying about accidentally pressing buttons. He then raced forward, trying to take her by surprise, but she anticipated it. She flipped the lever and not just that, she raced around the TARDIS pushing countless buttons. The Doctor followed her, correcting everything she'd done. He finally reached her and took her in his arms, pinning down her arms so she couldn't press anymore buttons.

"There," she said, evidently satisfied with her close proximity to him. "Wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Sorry," he said, realizing that he'd grabbed her. He let go. "Didn't mean to do that. Got caught up in the moment. I know how you get about things like that-"

"Don't be stupid, that's what I wanted you to do," Ginger replied. "I started the scenario. I was playing the villain. Always loved playing the villain. I had myself prepared for capture. I never meant not to be caught." She squared up. "So. Resume play. You can touch me or I'm gonna go back to pushing your buttons."

She was maddening in a way. She completely didn't understand that she could've gotten them both into trouble with a gimmick like that. But he couldn't help that he was into it. He took her by the arms again. "Like this?"

"You can do better than that."

"Yeah, you're right..." He kissed her.

The TARDIS resigned itself to the fact that it was going to have to get used to this.

_Children, _she thought to herself.

...

It turned out that Ginger was very fond of games. She was still a bit shy and uncertain when it came to herself, but if she could put on a character she could be completely confident. 

She always picked the scenarios. She was very fond of dressing up all in green with little antennas and pretending to be a stereotypical alien from the old days of Earth science fiction. She liked talking a big game about getting probed, but of course she was always on top. Sometimes she'd sing a song to him called "The Astronomer" by Vermillion Lies. He really liked that one. She'd sometimes dress as an alien for that one, but she did particularly favor a certain slinky black cocktail dress with constellations on it. There was also another game that they both really liked that they wondered if it wasn't weird that they liked. That one was centered around her singing "Johnny" by Clare Fader while she was dressed in a tiny candy-themed dress and he was dressed as Willy Wonka. Every time they came back to the idea that perhaps this one was a tiny bit strange, they'd quickly forget about it for the sake of their own sanity. 

The Doctor noticed that she particularly got riled up by watching old scifi movies, but the best, non-musical, ways to get her in the mood involved movies about witches or vampires.

One night she switched it up and pretended to be a human who was desperately trying to get abducted by aliens. She named this game after "The Epic Moon" by Clare Fader.

"You know, you can call this off any time you want," he assured her, breaking their embrace for just a moment. "If you ever feel uncomfortable, just say so."

"What, like a safeword?" she teased.

"I was thinking more like you just say 'stop' and we will, but sure. What did you have in mind?"

She thought of it for a moment, a slow grin coming across her face. "Taffeta, darling?" They'd just watched Young Frankenstein for the millionth time.

He chuckled as he got the joke. "Taffeta, sweetheart." The Doctor watched as something in her eyes faltered and a bit of that old insecurity showed through. "What? What's wrong?"

She smiled at him, but was obviously still troubled. "This isn't _weird_, is it? All this acting out I make us do?"

"No, it's fun. I'd rather have you just as you, of course, but I know this helps you."

She softened to him. "And it's not annoying that I talk all in movie quotes?"

"It's another thing that clued me in that you might be autistic," he admitted. "Our community is more likely to be nerdy overall. You've been socialized human, so the gendered difference is more pronounced in you."

She tilted her head, quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," said he. "That on Gallifrey there aren't really assigned gender roles so the exhibition of autistic traits tends to be more uniform. On Earth, the binary is so rigid. Men tend to present more on the side of maths and sciences. Women are more likely to present with arts. Not saying that if you'd grown up on Gallifrey, you'd necessarily be a mathematics whiz - you'd still naturally gravitate towards what you will. I got lucky that I was interested in just about everything."

Ginger thought about this. "Doctor," she said, slowly. "You don't ever think, maybe, that there's something wrong with me?"

"What?" He was genuinely not expecting that. "No. Of course not. What's given you that idea?"

She shrugged. She'd just realized that this was rapidly becoming not just a conversation about autism, but was bordering on actually sharing.

"Nothing's wrong with you for being autistic," he said kindly, brushing some hair away from her face. "Absolutely nothing. You might find some things more difficult in life, but that isn't your fault. You have a unique perspective, and it should be shared with the world. You aren't a defect or a disease. You are a star that shines so bright that the darkness cannot help but want to extinguish you. You can't let it."

She thought about this then forced a smile, deciding now wasn't the time for sharing. "Neurodivergence is punk rock, yeah?"

"As you'd say, 'hell yeah'."

She chuckled and kissed him. "We should've done this sooner," she said, breathlessly. "Don't know why I wasted all that time being stubborn. Maybe if I didn't have so many walls-"

"I wouldn't call them walls," he said. "I don't regret us taking our time, getting comfortable with each other. I wasn't here trying to climb over or break down a wall. You've just got boundaries - and that's a good thing. You've got your reasons, sure, but everyone should have boundaries. If I ever cross yours, I need you to tell me. And I trust that you will, because you've never been shy on the subject before."

...

"I've often felt," the Doctor said as they lay in bed later. "That it's not our fault."

"You know I err on the side of taking no personal responsibility," Ginger replied, staring at the ceiling. "But what isn't?"

"There's a theory I have that I think holds true for marginalization in general," he admitted. "A lot of rhetoric is spread saying autistic people should be put out of their misery. That we're naturally predisposed to anxiety, depression - mental illness in general. I don't think that's necessarily true. I think that a lot of it is society making us feel bad about ourselves. If we were just left alone and allowed to live our lives in peace without being told we're wrong or different then we'd likely be a lot happier."

She considered this. "I think that's true," she concluded. "They use the same sort of thing for gay people. 'Oh but their lifestyle makes them more likely to be suicidal.' Like, bitch, they're suicidal because you harass and degrade them on a regular basis."

"Exactly my point," he said. He turned on his side to look at her. "Can I ask you an oddly personal question?"

"We do that now?" she asked, turning on her side to face him.

"Your scars," he said, tracing his fingers over her now smooth arm. "The ones you used to have, I mean. When did you start getting them? Was it around the time you started suppressing your stimming?"

"Stimming?" she asked, puzzled. "I know a lot of words, Doc, but I don't know that one."

"It's an autism term," he explained, kindly. "For mannerisms and tics we use to soothe ourselves. Flapping hands, walking on toes, rocking, pacing, playing with our hair..."

"Ohhhh," she said. "Yeah I've done all those things. Still do if I...forget not to do them. When I'm stressed, you know?"

"How old were you when you started trying not to do those things? Actively?"

She thought about it. "Probably about 10? I don't know, that's when I started learning how to not do those things on stage. I don't think I really _stopped _until I was about 15. People in my life at that time were really awful if you didn't act exactly their definition of normal. It became safer just to blend."

"And that's when you started hurting yourself?"

"Yeah, I think so? Never really thought of it that way before. It was just something I did when I was feeling too much of anything."

"I've got a theory," he said. "That self-harm behaviors in autistic kids are often linked to the suppressing of harmless stims. People make you feel bad for having a harmless activity that helps you when you're feeling overwhelmed, so you stop doing that because you want to blend in. But you still need an outlet, and it bubbles over as self-hatred. So my theory is that self-harm in autistic children is a negative stim. Just another thing to do to release extreme emotions, especially ones that you don't understand."

"That would make a lot of sense, actually," she replied.

"Just letting you know that you're allowed to stim in front of me," he said, gently. "I'm not going to make you feel bad for it. My personal mantra is 'stim without shame'."

"I'm so lucky to have found you," she said.

He smiled. "It was statistically near impossible, but I'm very glad we met against all odds."

"Were you surprised?" she asked. "When Cupid told us what we were to each other?"

"Not as much as I imagined I would be," he admitted. "I'd always imagined if I encountered someone like you, I'd realize it immediately. There'd be fireworks, you know? And we'd be actually inseparable. But that didn't happen with us."

"Because I kept fighting it."

"To be fair, I wasn't ready to accept it either," he said. "Something about you always nagged at me. I told myself that it was the obvious autistic traits, and then later on said it had to be that I somehow suspected you weren't human...But it wasn't that. I was in a bad mental space, not ready to move on. So I didn't want to give in to what we could have. But the more time I spent with you here in the TARDIS...I've known for a while that I was feeling things for you. So when I found out what we were, I accepted it instantly."

"I did too," she said. 

"I rationalized it away so well," he said. "Time Lords have certain psychic abilities that can be activated through skin-to-skin contact, but nothing like what we have. Nothing this vivid. Even knowing that, I still rationalized it away when I saw that flash of fire from you when we were in the Maze-"

"You saw that?" she said, suddenly disturbed.

"Yeah," he said, picking up on her sudden mood shift. "Is that a problem?"

"What else did you see?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just that. Lots of fire."

She swallowed and nodded, as if trying to convince herself of something. Then she smiled. "Well that's fine, then."

"I knew there was something..." he mused, choosing to ignore this. "The moment we met, I knew I didn't want to just leave you forever. I had to get to know you. I always had to keep coming back..."

"Don't leave me again," she said, surprising herself for saying it. "Stay with me. Whatever happens, whatever you find out..."

"What would I find out?" He couldn't help but think that he was the one in danger of losing her if she found out too much about him. The arrangement they had to not talk about their pasts too much was really beneficial to them both.

She shook her head. "Hopefully nothing. Just don't go."

He remembered that he had an obligation, somewhere that he had to be. But he didn't have to think about it now. "I'm here," he said. He reached for her and she surprised him by snuggling in tightly to his chest. She wasn't much of a snuggler. She always joked about being a 'cold fish, like in the Queen Adreena song'. 

"I'm here," he said again, holding her tight. He couldn't help but notice that her hair smelled slightly of green apples and coconuts. "I'm here."

...

The Doctor and Ginger decided to take a small vacation on a rather hospitable planet in the Andromeda galaxy. They had a small picnic on a beach.

"Nice warm day," the Doctor said. "Nice day for a cold beverage...Perhaps...a frozen hot chocolate?"

Ginger's gaze hardened. "Absolutely not! A chocolate milkshake, sure! But a frozen hot chocolate? Absolutely completely wrong from a language standpoint. It makes absolutely zero sense and whoever came up with the idea should be drawn and quartered-"

He kissed her, breaking off her thought mid-tangent. At first she froze, surprised by the affection. Then she closed her eyes and put her arms around him.

She broke away reluctantly and tried to catch her breath. "What was that for?" she asked, smiling in spite of herself.

"You're very passionate," he replied. "It makes me very...passionate."

She opened her eyes. "You know, I'm beginning to think you provoke me on purpose."

"What? Noooo...I would never..." He wasn't very convincing, but then again, he wasn't trying to be. "But I do have to admit I like hearing you get worked up over things that don't matter." She raised her eyebrows so he amended his statement. "I don't mean that they don't matter, I just mean...Most of the things you care about are very life-and-death. But sometimes you get inordinately irritated by things that have no real-world consequences. I don't know why, but I enjoy it."

She smiled slowly. "Well...in that case..." She cast about for something nitpicky to say. "Oh, I can't even think of something to say! You're very distracting!"

"I was thinking about getting some candles," he replied. "Maybe waterfall or mountain mist scented?"

Ginger groaned and rolled her eyes. "Those aren't even _real __scents_! Lilac, pumpkin, vanilla - _those _are real scents! You can picture the smell of them! But mountain mist? What the hell does a mountain mist smell like-"

He kissed her again slowly, and she eagerly kissed him back. 

"Oh," she said softly. "I see what you did there."

"You have a lot of little things that you get worked up over," the Doctor said. "I could do this all day."

"Please do..." She kissed him this time. 

Just then a rather large airship flew overhead, flying a bit too close to the ground for comfort. They broke apart to look at it.

"What do you suppose that is?" the Doctor asked.

"Wanna find out?" she asked.

...

"I expect that's the refugees," said the local they consulted. "It's a horrible situation, but we have a moral obligation to take them in."

"Refugees?" asked the Doctor. "From where?"

"Raddavarik 2, sir," said the guide.

"Raddavarik 2?" the Doctor repeated, completely shocked and horrified. "That can't be right. That's a perfectly lovely planet!"

The guide seemed confused. "Haven't you heard of the war?"

"War? What war? There's no war on Raddavarik-"

"Between the Kwickzots and the Raldrovics-"

"No," the Doctor said. "No that's...that's impossible. What happened?"

The guide gave him a strange look. "How do you not know about the war? It's been going on for decades!"

"Why are they fighting?"

The guide shrugged. "Who knows? Some religious thing, I expect."

...

They returned to the TARDIS and the Doctor set a course for Raddavarik 2.

Ginger could tell something was troubling him. "Doc? What's wrong?"

He started to tell her and then remembered this was one of the things he was purposely not telling her. "I just want to get to the bottom of this. That's all. They shouldn't be _fighting. _That's all wrong."

...

They landed in the capital city of Mira and the Doctor was instantly distressed by what they found.

"No, no this is...this is a _war zone." _He breathed in air that was thick with soot and ash. "It's all wrong, it wasn't like this when I left-"

"So you've been here before." She'd suspected this from his reaction, but couldn't help but wonder what this was all about.

"I just need to find someone," he said. "Someone who can _explain _this to me..."

...

They found their way to a local Kwickzot outpost and requested entrance.

The Kwickzot's were a humanoid species covered in short yellow and black fur. Their little antennae protruded from their heads and they buzzed when their tiny wings fluttered. 

"Who are you?" buzzed the sentry.

"SPIES," came the voice of another guard. "SPIES from the heathen scum!"

"Woah that's a little strong, don't'cha think?" Ginger asked. "We're from out of town. We came here to offer help. I'm Ginger, and this is Th-"

"Thesius," the Doctor cut in, quickly. "My name is Thesius."

Ginger snuck a glance at him out of the side of her eye, but said nothing.

...

"You're being weird," she said to him when they were alone and waiting for the leader to come see them. "Weirder than usual, I mean. I'm usually the one with a crazy alias, and you go all mythological on me?"

"Sorry," he said. "I'm not familiar with this planet anymore. I might not be welcome..."

"Doctor, what's happening here?"

"Doctor?" a voice queried. A wall slid aside and revealed the leader had been watching from behind it. "Did you call him Doctor?"

"Yeah," Ginger said. "What of it?"

The Kwickzot and his guards buzzed between themselves for a moment before bowing their heads deferentially. "The savior has returned."

"Please," the Doctor said, awkwardly. "Don't do that."

...

They were accepted easily once they'd accepted their identities. Ginger was still unclear. 

"Why do they act like you're the return of Christ?" she asked.

"I, ah...I'm the one who put them here," the Doctor admitted.

"Here?" Ginger glanced around at the rubble and devastation. "Why would you put anyone _here?"_

"It wasn't like this," he said, frustrated. "It was beautiful back then. The Kwickzots were always a nomadic people, and not by choice. These were their ancestral lands, but they were forced to leave. They spread out across the galaxy, but they lost everything they managed to scrape together for themselves in the Time War. After it ended, I offered them a chance to come back to their native lands. The Raldrovics were here, of course, but they were meant to coexist peacefully."

The Doctor and Ginger carried on trying to help and the Kwickzots were not shy about explaining the reasons they hated the Raldrovics. The war had been long and bloody and had gone on for generations. Everyone knew someone who had been killed by the Raldrovics, including civilians and children. The violence had been unceasing. Ginger was captured by an insurgency of Raldrovics, who she learned were a species of humanoid hummingbirds. They asked her all sorts of questions about the Doctor, which she refused to answer. She refused to confirm whether he was really back. But then they said something that really confused her.

The Doctor managed to rescue her before she could be tortured. 

"Did they hurt you?" he asked, checking her over in the back of the armored Kwickzot vehicle. 

"No, to their credit, they actually didn't get around to doing damage," she said, testily.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked a Kwickzot general.

"Oh come on, I made it clear that I'm anti-torture while you were torturing their soldier," she said.

"And, what, they're better because they didn't get around to it? Because they would. They're brutal killers-"

"Funny that's what they said about you too. You don't realize how similar both of your sides are. You kill each other over and over again and nobody remembers why."

The vehicle stopped and Ginger got out, slamming the door behind her. The Doctor hastily followed.

"Ginger, what-" began the Doctor.

"Why do they say you're a killer?" Ginger demanded. "The Raldrovics kept calling you a general. Kept saying you're a soldier. But you're not. You're a peace-loving bleeding heart hippie, same as me. They've got it wrong. That's what I told them." She realized what she was asking. "No." She shook her head. "No, we don't do this. It's all wrong. Your past is your own, you don't owe it to me. Forget I asked." She started to walk away.

"You wouldn't like it if you knew," he said, softly.

She didn't turn around. "How bad can it be? You're the good guy, remember?"

"Not always," he admitted. "Sometimes even the good guy can make bad decisions and hurt people. In self-defense or in a fit of ego or because at that moment it seems the thing to do. But I'm not infallible. I didn't want any of this."

She turned back to him. "You don't have to do this. We don't have to talk about it."

"But it's important," he said. "Important that you know I'm not some barometer of goodness to measure yourself by. I try, but I can't...I didn't tell you the whole truth about the Time War. I made it sound like something that just happened around me. But I was drafted and before I knew what to make of it, I was on the front lines calling shots. The Kwickzots were caught in the crossfire of a conflict they weren't a part of. I relocated them because I felt guilty. All those times they asked for asylum for persecution and Gallifrey turned them away. But when the war ended and there was nobody left...I thought I could fix it. I'm sorry."

She was startled. "Why are you apologizing to me?"

"Because we're alone. There's nobody else. And that's down to a decision I made that not only nearly wiped out the Kwickzots, but also killed every other remaining member of _our _species. Ginger, we're alone in the universe and you're cut off from your people and your culture and it's my fault."

"I'm not upset with you."

"You're not?"

"No. Gallifrey didn't want me, remember? I'm a refugee from _there_. I'm perfectly fine with you being the only connection to that world that I'll ever have. I'm just sad that it pains you this much. But why didn't you tell me any of this?"

He looked at her flatly. "You're kidding."

"What?"

"Tell you I was a soldier, even though I was a reluctant one? After that time Alex said something about bush and you went on a fifteen minute rant about the Iraq War and 9/11 and how America has no right to act morally superior when they're responsible for the destabilization of the Middle East and oh right war is state-sponsored violence meant to spread religion and claim power and oil? Then after all that you listened long enough to find out that when Alex said 'bush' she hadn't meant George W, she'd meant that there was a cool bush cut in the shape of a dinosaur but you hadn't been paying attention to the first part of her sentence, you got annoyed like I'd personally done anything in that situation. Yeah, I see your point, I really should've opened up about my military record and genocide to that person."

"If it helps, I stand by my position," she said. "But I'm sorry."

"We need to stop apologizing to each other at some point."

"Well I have a perfect way to do that. We need to try to get these people into a peace summit. I mean we owe it to them to show them how similar these cultures are."

"You think it's possible? You think they can find peace?"

She took his hand. "From what you've told me, your war was unwinnable. This war is more contained. They have much more in common than you had with the Daleks. You know, I actually took the time to listen to the Raldrovics' grievances and they've got points. Which isn't to say that the Kwickzots don't because they _absolutely _do. We've just got to get them talking."

"What did the Raldrovics say?"

She sighed. "Doc, you dropped these people here and told them to get along. The Raldrovics had been living here for hundreds of years when the Kwickzots came back. To them, it looks like an invasion. And the situation has only devolved from there. They both fight constantly over who gets what. I understand that you thought you could get them to bond because they've both been discriminated against, but you should've known that the Raldrovics would want to defend their homes. I'm not saying you were wrong to try, but these people all have valid claims to the land and this has gone on so long that they've all lost people. There needs to be more talking."

...

Initially, both the Kwickzots and the Raldrovics refused to get in a room with each other, citing people who had been killed as reason for it. Ginger tricked the leaders of both camps into a meeting. They weren't happy about this.

"Oh come on!" Ginger shouted her frustration. "Look at you, you have so much in common! How many star systems have you all been forced from? It's a shame, really it is, that you've devolved into this sort of brutality instead of mutual understanding! You talk about how the other side are all killers, but you kill their children too! You torture equally horrifically! You expect the other side to just give in to your demands because of your brutality, but then act like you have the moral high ground? There has to be an end to this. You both have valid historical and ancestral claims to these lands, why not work together to have some sort of agreement? If you can agree on nothing else, at least agree that you're really angry with me right now. All I'm saying is that you're people, not Daleks. You have empathy. You can work something out." 

She sat down heavily at the negotiation table and gestured for everyone else to do the same. She'd situated herself at the far side of the table against the wall and facing the door. The Doctor sat on the bench next to her. Reluctantly, everyone else took places at the table. The Doctor had never been more proud of Ginger.

"We're just here for mediation," Ginger said, gesturing to the Doctor. "This is an issue of your lands and what you want. I think it's time that I learned to sit back and listen for once instead of just talking over people and assuming I know what's best."

"And I regret interfering last time," the Doctor said. "I won't make the same mistake twice."

...

The talks went well. Ginger only contributed every so often to try to clear up any unclear terminology that was thrown around, but other than that, they just watched the negotiations go. 

It soon became clear that the talks were coming to a close and a resolution was close to being passed. The Doctor and Ginger were both very pleased with this outcome. 

"I guess there's still a matter of the preservation of sacred sites," Ginger said, bringing attention to the last matter on the list of grievances. "How would you want to proceed?"

The Doctor had been watching her throughout this whole negotiation. He liked this side of her. He'd always seen that fire and passion and that need to do what is right without resorting to violence. But he'd never seen her this calm and thoughtful. She was listening instead of trying to be the loudest voice in the room. And it was because of her that any of them were in this room.

He looked away from her and surreptitiously reached under the table to lightly brush his fingertips along the exposed skin between her red skirt and her thigh-high black boots. He wondered if this would work.

She felt the contact like a brand of fire spreading across her leg. In her mind, she could see his hand climbing further up her skirt. She looked at him with mingled surprise and annoyance. She returned her attention to the delegation.

"That's a...a wonderful proposal." She swallowed hard and tried to focus. "I-in that case, I think we have reached a climax - a compromise. I said _compromise._ I think we can leave it here for today. It's been an honor working with you all." 

She was acutely aware that his hand really was climbing up her thigh. Or was it? She couldn't really tell the difference between the images in her mind and the reality of things anymore. No, no, it definitely was.

The delegation all shook hands and began making plans for further talks. Ginger closed her eyes for a second, trying to get control of herself. But this outcome was so incredible that she couldn't help but feel like celebrating as well.

"Yes, yes, that's all very well," she finally said. "But you can leave now."

"Beg your pardon?" said the leader of the Raldrovic delegation. 

"I'm saying please leave," she said, ever-so-sweetly. "As in get out. And shut the door behind you."

"She's saying this respectfully of course," the Doctor said, his hand doing things that sent waves of heat traveling through her body.

"Yes, so kindly, so respectfully," Ginger said, sweetly but impatiently this time. "Respectfully, please leave. And don't forget about the door."

The men didn't know what to make of this and grumbled as they left. The moment the door closed, Ginger was on top of the Doctor.

"That was fast," he said.

"I don't waste time with pleasantries," she grinned, taking off her sweater. "Besides, you started it." She was awfully pleased with herself. "I was good, wasn't I? Well I'm about to be _really _good..."

"I like the sound of that-"

One of the Kwickzotian delegates came rushing back in. Ginger twisted round to glare at him from her vantage point on the Doctor's lap.

"F-forgot my pen?" the tiny man said.

"It's replaceable," Ginger said. "Would you say the same about your head?"

"I-I'm sorry?"

"Because I'm not liking its chances of staying attached to your body if you keep interrupting us," she concluded. "Do you want to risk it?"

The man took the hint and left as quickly as possible. 

"Now," Ginger said, returning her attention to the Doctor and practically purring. "Where were we?"

"You _definitely _should've gotten the part of the Queen of Hearts," he said, appreciatively.

"If you're trying to butter me up, it's working..." She kissed him.

...

They emerged some time later with their clothes rumpled and hair askew to find a serious argument had broken out.

"That's it!" the Kwickzotian ambassador said, ripping up the treaty. "This is off! We cannot work with such brutal savages! This was a mistake!"

"_We're _brutal?" the Raldrovi ambassador shouted. "Your people slaughtered an entire _village _of my people and _we're _the savages?"

"You've bombed women and children!"

"So have you!"

Ginger found the scrawny delegate that had interrupted them earlier. "What happened?" she asked. "It was all going so well..."

"Another attack was ordered on an encampment," said the man. "It just wasn't going to work out. There can never be peace between our two species."

...

Ginger was troubled when they returned to the TARDIS.

"So we're just going to leave them?" she asked. "I mean this is _our _mess, isn't it?"

"Mine, more like," said the Doctor.

"Yes, but now I've got involved too," she said. "Shouldn't we do more to help?"

"And you don't think we'll just make it worse with our meddling? Whatever we do? I'm starting to think you were right in the first place."

"About what?"

"About all that stuff you said about the Iraq War. Our actions have consequences and we can't just ignore that. People farther out in the galaxy think this is an ancient savage heathen war, but it was all caused by meddling. Maybe it can only be solved by the people involved. Maybe it was too much to hope for some easy fix. Life isn't a television show, we can't wrap up the arc in 40 minutes."

"I know but...I just don't like it."

The Doctor looked up from a monitor. "Here. Come look at this."

She walked slowly over to him and saw that it was a newspaper clipping.

"What's this?" she asked.

"I rarely look back on people I save," he admitted. "I like to believe the story is over and that I was the good guy. But that's not true. I was the good guy to the Kwickzotians and the bad guy to the Raldrovics. It's all a matter of narrative, I guess. But I thought I'd look and see if what we did had any effect whatsoever on the future. And I don't think it did."

"Comforting."

"But that's not to say this war goes on forever." He pointed at the screen. "This is from 40 years in the future. They work it out on their own. I know it's disappointing that we couldn't end it now, but we're probably not meant to. But it's comforting in a way that whatever damage we do can heal on its own, given time. That's not to say we shouldn't try to help, we should do all we can to help people who ask for it. But sometimes interfering where you're out of your depth does more damage." He looked at her closely. "I really am sorry that I didn't tell you how involved I was in the war. I suppose I felt a little like I burnt our home to the ground."

Ginger was overcome with an image of fire and dashed it away quickly. "But was it really your home? You said you hated it. And it didn't like people like us. Sometimes things are supposed to burn. Like a controlled forest fire on the ecosystem of the universe. It makes way for new life."

He wasn't sure he liked hearing this bitter edge to her voice again. "You know you can tell me anything, don't you? I'm not going to judge you. Whatever you've done can't be nearly so bad."

For a split second, she wanted to tell him. But then she stopped herself. "Can we not? I don't want to deal with this all right now. Can we just, I dunno, watch a movie? Something dumb so I don't have to think?"

He knew he'd almost gotten through to her and for that he was sad. But he was more than willing to put this conversation off. "What about _Clue_? You always feel better when we watch _Clue_."

She smiled. "_Clue. _Yeah. That'll do nicely."


	41. Werewolves of London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler: There are no werewolves in this chapter. It also mostly doesn't take place in London. Apologies in advance for the lying.

Ginger and the Doctor had a connection, and they couldn't help but use it any time they could. This led to them staying in the TARDIS rather a lot, playing out imaginary scenarios together with their mental connection.

Ginger awoke one morning and rolled over on her side. She smiled when she noticed the Doctor's eyelids were fluttering.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked him.

"Who says I'm not still dreaming?" he asked with his eyes still closed. 

"Well seeing as I'm a living nightmare, I do. I think you were looking at me and wanted to seem like you weren't."

"That's very possible," he said, giving up the ghost entirely and opening his eyes at last. "What would you do about it if I was?"

She smiled at him as if giving the matter a great deal of thought, then slowly kissed him. He sat up slightly so that he was kissing her with her head against the pillows. She laughed.

"Good morning," she smiled. "Never used to think mornings could be good, but lately..." She smiled so contentedly and there wasn't a single tense muscle in her entire body. This was getting more usual. "What's for breakfast?"

He gazed back at her steadily. "You don't want to stay in bed just...a little bit longer?"

She chuckled. "No. I'm hungry, you moron. Hop to it."

"What if I were to bribe you?" he asked slyly.

She picked up on his drift. "You think you're that good, Casanova?"

He dove under the covers, fully intending to make the most of what time he had here.

"You're ridiculous," she laughed. "Completely out of your mind..." She shuddered and gasped involuntarily as his tongue got to work. Her back arched. "_Ohhhhh boy..._Okay. We'll have to table this for now, but we can pick it back up after breakfast."

His head reappeared. "What? Not good enough?"

"Very good," she assured him. "But I'm _hungry."_

He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "One day, Ginger, one day I'll manage to make you desire me more than breakfast. One day you'll want to stay in this bed a few more minutes."

She chuckled again and her grin was brighter than the sun. "Well you'll know when that day comes that I've been bodyswapped." She gave him a swift peck on the lips. "It's a robot clone, like Cameron." She sat up and kissed him again. "Or a _clone _clone, like any proper cloneswap." She began climbing from the bed. "Or maybe we'll get _really _lucky and it's an alternative universe version of me who is sent to impersonate me on a secret mission for her government."

"What's lucky about that?" the Doctor asked.

She shrugged and began putting some clothes on. "I just _really _like Fringe. We could get a proper Fauxlivia situation. Would probably be killer."

"Would it be a real Fauxlivia situation if it's you?" he asked. "What's a Ginger version of a Fauxlivia?"

"Good question." She considered it. "Gingernate? No I hate that..." She clapped her hands. "Oooh I got it." She rubbed her hands together and looked at him gleefully. "This is good. You ready for this?"

He grinned at her, amused by this adorable display of enthusiasm. "Hit me with it."

She pointed the index fingers of both hands at the ceiling as she shifted from one foot to the other. "Doppelginger."

He had to admit he liked the sound of that. "Oh that _is _good!"

She opened both hands wide. "Isn't it?"

He propped himself up by his elbows as if angling for her to kiss him. She rolled her eyes and leaned down to give in.

"And _that_," she said. "Is all you get until I've eaten."

"Oh come _on_..." he protested.

She shook her head. "Nope. Not a chance."

"Alright," he sighed, climbing out of bed himself. "Let me get dressed first." There was a pause while he did this. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"Do you ever stop?" she teased.

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you?"

"Fair point."

"As I was saying, I think we should get out of the TARDIS, just for a bit."

"What for?" Ginger asked, leaning in for a kiss. "Why would I ever want to leave?"

"Just thought of somewhere you might like to go more."

She raised her eyebrows. "Where did you have in mind? And don't bring up the Restaurant at the End of the Universe again."

She knew him too well, but he covered easily. "Oh come on, Ginger, I know how you feel about that!" he lied. "I wouldn't bring it up a third time!"

"Bit too much like a date," she reminded him.

"And we wouldn't want to imply," he agreed. 

"Shouldn't make it a thing."

"Right, no, of course not...But what is it? If not a thing?"

"It's not a _thing_ thing. It's _our _thing."

"But not a dating thing."

"Right."

"But it's a repeated thing. A several times a day every day thing."

"And several more when we're on planets with longer rotations."

"...But not a date thing. Again, not implying, just trying to figure out what your preferred language is."

"We shouldn't have to use one," she said. "We've got that connection thingie. We just know."

"Right," he said. "I wasn't going to ask again, by the way." _Liar._ "I was going to ask you to go to CBGB with me."

Her jaw dropped. "CBGB? Forget second-day clothes, I've gotta go change!"

He couldn't help but smile. "Not too much like a date, then?" he smiled.

"Shut up!" she shot back.

...

They walked along the crowded 1970s New York street, gazing around at the sights and sounds. They spotted a happy couple nearby, giggling and laughing.

"I hope you know CPR," the man was saying. "Because you take my breath away."

Ginger dramatically gagged and the Doctor couldn't help but laugh at her reaction.

"God, that was terrible, just awful," she said as they continued on their way. "Human girls will really fall for anything."

"Oh really?" the Doctor asked. "It's just human girls, is it, just the human girls?"

"It's all so silly," Ginger said dismissively. 

"What is? Feelings?"

She nodded appreciatively. "You get me."

He considered her carefully. "I think you're just afraid of them."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Afraid of what? Feelings?"

He nodded with considerably more amusement. "You get me."

She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. "Can't be afraid of feelings when I don't have any."

"Oh sure, sure," the Doctor replied. "You're a regular Cyberman."

"You know I don't fully understand that reference. I'm just saying thank the stars we're smarter than them. We're more evolved."

"Than who? Humans?"

She nodded. "I mean, think about it. They've got to go invent complicated feelings when they just wanna bang. I mean, like, get it over with. We're on a higher plane of existence. We recognize that we don't have the need for any cheap one-liners."

"So one-liners wouldn't work on you? Not under any circumstances?"

She tried her best to hold back a smile. "Am I sensing one of our games beginning?"

"First one to tell a pick-up line that's so bad it's good wins?"

"You're on," Ginger replied. "First round of human mating ritual parody is about to begin. Let's call it...Chat-Up Casanova. You go first."

He considered this then smiled. "Excuse me," he said slyly. "I was wondering if you had an extra heart, because mine just got stolen."

She laughed loudly, throwing her whole body into it. "Not a chance, Casanova. You still have an extra one, you'll live."

"You think you can do better?" he challenged.

"Only because I'm cleverer than you," she teased. She thought about it then smiled. "I'm travelling to important dates in history. You wanna be one of them?"

He laughed. "That was _almost _a coherent thought! But no way. But I've got one, I've got one...Looks like you've got your phasers set on _stunning_."

"Oh I hate you, that was awful. Is your name Google, because I've been searching for you?"

"Terrible. There must be something wrong with my eyes, because I can't take them off of you."

"Yeah, you might want to get your eyeglass prescription adjusted. Hey, my name's Skype, can I crash at your place?"

"Again, almost completely incoherent," he chuckled. "I'm glad I brought my library card, because I'm totally checking you out."

She opened her mouth then closed it again. "Have to admit, you almost got me with that one."

He was stunned. "I did?"

"_No," _she laughed. "But you know what, I think you must've had some felix felicis, because I think you might just get lucky tonight."

He looked at her, noting the playful way her eyes gleamed as they met his. "You win," he said, completely seriously.

"Ha!" she replied. "Best two out of three? Making fun of the humans is fun."

He'd forgotten why they were doing this. "Absolutely," he said. He put his arms around her waist with a sly grin. "But what does the winner get? I don't think we ever established so much as a point system..."

She giggled and leaned in close to whisper to him. "The thing about Chat-Up Casanova is that everyone gets lucky in the end. Even if you don't win, you never really lose..."

The game continued for some time, and even became one they'd play semi-regularly. The Doctor came to enjoy it. It became a good way to accidentally slip in a good, heartfelt romantic gesture but retain plausible deniability. He needed the deniability, if only because he knew that Ginger might pull away from discomfort without it. She couldn't stand a genuine display of emotion. So this was a good way to almost go about it.

Sometimes she had to wonder if he meant it though. Sometimes she had to wonder if _she _did too.

...

"God it _smells _in here," Ginger complained as they entered the smokey bar. "I _hate _cigarette smoke."

"That's the one smell in here that you object to?" the Doctor asked. The place reeked of dog excrement, stale beer, and chili. 

"God, the 70s were fuckin' wild with the health codes," Ginger complained. 

"So it's not everything you hoped?"

"Look, I'm a punk. I can handle it if the band's good enough. Speaking of...Who are we seeing?"

"We can leave if the band isn't up to your standards," he said, in an offhand sort of way. "This sort of obscure little band is playing tonight."

"Don't say obscure like I wouldn't know them. Who is it? Hit me."

"Little known band called Angel and the Snake, don't know if you've heard-"

She punched him on the arm. "Shut up. _Shut up! _You brought me to see one of the first ever Blondie sets?"

He chuckled, clearly amused. "How do you know everything about everything all the time?"

She rolled her eyes. "You expected me not to know the original band name for Blondie?"

"Yes, you're right, how silly of me. You want to leave?"

"Oh we can stay just for the one set," she said. "I can deal with the smell."

...

They found themselves in the bathroom at CBGB, with her sitting on top of the counter next to the sink. "Oh wait," Ginger said, placing her hands against his chest. "I can't do this."

"Why not?" It wasn't a pressuring statement, merely a curious one.

She made a face. "Unsanitary," she replied. "I mean...think of all the filthy people who came through here before us."

"True, true..." he said, kissing her neck. "But counterpoint...Think of all the punk rock history that came through here before us...Debbie Harry and Chris Stein apparently made out in this very bathroom...Don't you want to be able to say that you did it in the bathroom at CBGB? Like a punk rock badge of honor."

She took a shuddering breath. "Oh you make a compelling argument, Time Lord." She kissed him then, and his hand began pushing up her skirt. But then she changed her mind again with a groan. "Nope, sorry. Wish I could, but can't. Not in a bathroom. It's not sanitary."

He sighed. "You know, I actually agree with you. I can't stomach the smell."

She smiled seductively at him. "Wanna go back to yours?"

He smiled back, unable to resist. He took her hand and pulled her from the room, intoxicated by how she immediately started giggling about the absurdity of the situation.

...

They returned to the TARDIS and he pulled her to him, kissing her gently.

She pulled away reluctantly. "I think we should shower first."

"Shower first?" he repeated, with a grin. "I thought you said bathrooms are unsanitary?"

She smacked his chest with her open palm. "Separately. In our _own _bathrooms. I need to get the cigarette smell out of my hair."

"Alright," he agreed, reluctantly. "20 minutes?"

"Or less."

...

Some hours later, Ginger entered the control room just as the Doctor was setting a course for London.

"Well aren't you beautiful," the Doctor said. "Absolutely lovely today. You're simply glowing."

Ginger shifted from one foot to the other bashfully. "Doc, we've talked about the physical compliments."

He looked up as if he hadn't realized she was there. "Ginger! Hello!"

She crossed her arms as the realization hit her. "...You weren't talking to me."

"Well, no, not exactly," he admitted. "I mean, as you've said, we've talked about physical compliments. It's not that I don't think _you're _lovely-"

"You were talking to the _TARDIS_," she said, wondering why the accusatory edge entered her voice.

"Well, yes." He pointed at a small light on the console and motioned for Ginger to come around and look. "I was running a diagnostic and this indicator light is, well, glowing beautifully. All systems in incredible working order-"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Do you two want to get a room?"

He caught her drift but decided to play dumb. "As a matter of fact, I was thinking of maybe converting a room into a bouncy castle-"

She laughed to herself, understanding that he was teasing. "You're unbelievable." She reached out to touch the gleaming console. "She is beautiful, though. Real nice ship."

They were both incredibly amused for their own reasons at the turn this conversation had taken. "Well she's not just pretty to look at," he said, flipping a switch. "Let's see what she can do. Next stop: London."

"Are we going to another punk club?" She asked.

"No, definitely not," he said, as if the whole idea was terribly silly. "Punk clubs in the UK weren't any more sanitary and were actually a bit more rowdy. You'd hate it. Have you ever thought, and don't take this the wrong way, that you're not a real punk?"

"I hardly think that expecting proper sanitation makes me less punk-"

"I only mean that maybe you're not just one thing. You want to define yourself that way so badly, but maybe you're a lot more complex than any one label."

She considered this as he began steering the ship. "It's possible."

...

The Doctor took her to an old punk club in London. It was slightly more sanitary than CBGB. The bands were good even if the food was just alright.

Ginger shivered as they exited the club. "It's cold," she complained. "Not wild about cold."

"If you wore something warmer, we wouldn't have to keep having this conversation," he replied, nodding at her little black dress and leather jacket. "But I can give you my coat-"

"Keep that on, Casanova," she rolled her eyes. "It doesn't match my outfit. Or...on second thought...Don't keep it on..." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.

He chuckled, reluctantly drawing away. "We're in the middle of the street."

"Then we get _out _of the street..." She shivered dramatically. "It's so cold...I think I'm getting the frostbites..."

"Well, good thing you have a Doctor to warm you up..."

They kissed and moved back in the direction of the TARDIS, but were so wrapped up in each other that they didn't realize they'd entered the wrong police box.

"Excuse me, do you mind?" a rather ruffled English policeman protested.

"I don't," Ginger said, absently. "Actually, I do a bit. Get lost."

The policeman drew himself up to his full height. "Excuse me, missy, but if you don't knock it off I'll have to write you both up for lewd behavior."

The Doctor's first instinct was to apologize and go find the real TARDIS, but Ginger managed to talk first.

"Actually you knock it off," Ginger said, reaching into her black dress for her psychic paper. "We're commandeering this police box."

The man spluttered at the credentials she showed him. "For what purpose?"

"Any purpose we damn well like," she replied impatiently. "Don't worry, we won't be long. Anywhere between 30 minutes and an hour. Could be more. Probably not less, though. But we're wasting time here, so _out_."

She pushed the little man out of the box and locked the door behind him. She leaned against the door and bit her lip as she realized the absurdity of the situation.

"That was some quick thinking," the Doctor said slowly. "Is it a good idea, though?"

"Why shouldn't it be?" she asked.

"It's a very small box," he pointed out. "Not really much room."

She smiled and threw her arms around his neck. "We don't need very much room."

"You don't usually like being boxed in."

"I chose this," she said. "I'm not trapped somewhere. I like you and I'm not in the mood to wait to get back to the TARDIS. So just this once." She kissed him and leaned back against the wall. She had to admit that she wasn't exactly wild about being against the wall. It wasn't somewhere she'd ever let herself be before. She decided to turn off that part of her mind and assume a new character who wasn't so skittish. "There's a zipper on the front of my dress," she said.

"I noticed," was his breathless reply.

"Unzip it. I want to show you something."

He didn't need telling twice. He unzipped it to find a black bra with little green aliens on it. "When did you get this?" he asked.

"In Roswell," she explained proudly. "When you weren't looking."

"You've had this for 2 weeks and this is the first I'm seeing of it?"

"Was saving it," she admitted. "Now..." She hooked one of her legs around him and beckoned him closer. "You gonna warm me up or what?"

He ran a hand along her leg, pushing her dress up. She kissed him.

...

Outside in the street, a small androgynous bipedal creature with thick brown fur kept their eyes on the police box and opened what appeared to be a makeup compact. 

"Followed them back to their spacecraft," they said. "Visual confirmation made on the subjects. It's them. Transmitting coordinates."

...

Somewhere along the way, Ginger had ended up entirely against the wall with her legs wrapped around the Doctor. The two of them finished quicker than usual - something that could probably be attributed to Ginger's discomfort at her current position against the wall and her relative discomfort about doing this activity in a public area. Her head had been tilted upwards but now she opened her eyes and looked down at the Doctor, a small, satisfied smile hovering on her lips.

The Doctor was rather taken aback by the sincere warmth and affection he saw in her eyes. He rarely saw this look on her, so it always surprised him. He struggled to find something fitting to say.

"Hi," he grinned, chuckling a bit.

Her tiny smile split into a wide grin as she joined in on the laughter. She smoothed his hair away from his face. "Hi." She cradled his face in her hands and leaned close for a kiss.

Then the entire police box shook violently. It was suddenly spinning and careening out of control. The motion threw the Doctor into the opposite wall and sent Ginger tumbling to the floor.

"Ginger!" the Doctor shouted over the sudden loud buzzing that surrounded them. He quickly buttoned up his trousers and crawled over to her, taking her hands. "Are you alright?"

Luckily she'd managed to fall into a sitting position. "If there's one thing my childhood taught me, it's how to fall efficiently!" she shouted back. "Protect the head at all costs! Bit bruised, but I'll live!" She glanced around as it occurred to her that she didn't know what was happening. "Probably." She winced.

"You're looking a little green," he said. "And not in the way we like."

"There must be a magnet of some kind," she said. "Because I feel...not...great..."

He took her in his arms. "It must be a magnetic tractor beam," he explained. "Primitive technology. I wonder who could be using it."

"I intend to give them a piece of my mind." Her voice was faint. This worried him.

The box skidded to a stop.

She tried to be funny. "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore. Toto, I don't think we're even on Earth." She passed out.

The Doctor was suddenly aware that people were likely to barge in on them any moment and wanted to spare her the embarrassment. He zipped up her dress and adjusted her clothes to cover everything they were supposed to.

A voice from outside the TARDIS spoke. "Subjects will exit the spacecraft promptly and peacefully."

"Will we?" the Doctor called back. He wished Ginger would wake up. 

"Subject U13A, we are aware that we cannot enter the TARDIS without your permission, so you will submit. You are caught in our magnetic field and unable to move. You are also surrounded. Please bring Subject U13B."

"Subject U13B?"

"The girl, Doctor, the girl. Feigned naivete will get you nowhere. Of course, everything will get you nowhere. Please exit the spacecraft."

The Doctor knew now that whoever this was didn't know that this wasn't really the TARDIS. Sooner or later, he reasoned, they may discover that fact. The only way to keep up the illusion might be to exit. He reached up and opened the door slightly, just enough that their captors couldn't see inside, then picked her up and carried her from the box and shut the door behind him by leaning against it. He found himself surrounded by a large group of bipedal wolf people who were carrying rather large weapons.

"What are those for?" he asked, warily.

"Insurance," the leader of the group said. "In case Subject U13B awakens before we can collar her. Apologies for the crude method of transport. It was necessary to neutralize her."

His arms tightened around her. "Collar her? What do you mean collar her? You're not touching her."

"You and she must be neutralized," the leader said. He nodded at a tall wolf man who rushed forward to prod the Doctor with what he recognized as a prod used for herding Trichlorian Herd Bison. He screamed involuntarily as every muscle in his body seized and he crumpled to the floor. Luckily he was able to keep a hold on Ginger.

"Careful," the leader said, holding up a paw. "Don't hurt them too much. We can't afford to have them regenerate on us. You know what will happen to us if we skew the results."

A smaller wolf man came forward with two pairs of circular metal wrist cuffs. 

"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked. "I told you you're not touching her."

"Doctor, you can't fight this," said the leader. "You make it worse for yourself. We'd like to get this process over with as quickly as possible, but if we have to render you unconscious to accomplish the first phase then we will. We know you'd rather be awake to tend to her, so it's your choice. You will submit to being collared."

The Doctor recognized that he was outnumbered and knew that he needed Ginger to be awake if he hoped to escape with her. It's not easy to fight your way out of a place when you have to carry someone. The smaller wolf man slipped the wrist cuffs onto the Doctor first, then onto Ginger. 

"Do not try to remove them," the leader warned. "Attempts to remove them will be met with swift punishment."

The Doctor said nothing, too busy thinking of how remarkable it was that they hadn't confiscated his sonic screwdriver. They knew who he was, and yet they hadn't taken it. That was a serious oversight. Unless it wasn't.

...

They were led to a small holding cell and left there. The door they came through immediately sealed itself into a solid wall again. He could only surmise that the many mirrors on the walls were two-way and someone must be on the other side watching them. Also curious was a camera mounted in the corner. They were being monitored and probably recorded.

There was no furniture in the room so the Doctor crouched on the floor with Ginger. "Ginger..." he whispered. "Ginger, wake up." She stirred, groaning slightly. "Ginger, I need you to wake up."

She groaned again and her eyes fluttered open. "Doc? What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"We were in the TARDIS...no not the..." She smiled to herself. "You were warming me up."

"And?"

She frowned as the rest came back to her. "Doc, my head hurts..."

He smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. "I think our complimentary bracelets might be magnetized."

"Not just that," she insisted. "I think this whole _room _is...Doc, I don't feel so good..."

"I know. I know." He made a mental note to ask Cupid or the Corsair what the deal was with these magnets next time he saw them. _If _he saw them.

There was a noise of an intercom system coming on. "As you can see, there's no point trying to escape," said an unfamiliar voice. "But if you decide to try, you will be punished. We can increase magnetization at any time. We'd rather keep her conscious."

"Who are you?" the Doctor demanded.

"We are Nobody," the voice replied. "We are not allowed names or designations. We are expendable. We fulfill our purpose."

"Which is?"

"To conduct the experiments. You will now answer a small questionnaire."

"Go to hell," Ginger spat. "I'm not saying anything."

"I would not recommend that. If you will turn to the mirror on your left, you will now be introduced to your questioner."

The Doctor glanced in the indicated direction as the mirror cleared to become a window. At the other side was another wolf person. This one was in a lab coat and was holding a clipboard.

"Subjects U13A and B appear to be intact, experiencing a heightened emotional state and elevated heart rates. Subject U13A will now answer questions about his physical state. U13A, have you incurred any damage in your processing?" There was a pause. "U13A?" It looked up. "I'm speaking to the male."

"Oh, me?" the Doctor replied. "I'm sorry, I'm unfamiliar with these designations."

"Have you been damaged, U13A?"

"I'd rather not be called that, if it's all the same to you-"

"Clinical detachment is mandated," the scientist said. "Have you been damaged, U13A?"

"Bruised, but undamaged."

It made a note. "And U13B has incurred minimal damage. No indication of brain trauma. Normal magnetization symptoms observed."

"What's the purpose of the magnets?" the Doctor demanded. "How does this work?"

Another note was made. "U13A has no knowledge of magnetization. This is consistent with Subjects U1 throught U12."

"There are others?" asked the Doctor.

Another note. "U13A seems entirely unaware. This could be false. Further investigation needed. We will now begin the questionnaire."

"I won't answer anything," Ginger said. "Don't answer anything, Doc."

"What is your relative age?" asked the Questioner.

"None of your business."

"I would suggest answering. Punishment will occur if you refuse." 

"I can take it. Do your worst."

A shock was administered through the Doctor's cuffs.

"Hey!" Ginger protested. "Why'd you do that? I'm the one being stubborn! You're supposed to punish me!"

"B Subjects have a high pain threshold," the Questioner said. "Even when magnetized and locked in, they can take an intolerable amount. Punishment is most effective when hurting A Subjects for B Subjects' mistakes."

"Stop talking about us like that!" Ginger protested.

"You didn't press any button," the Doctor pointed out as the pain subsided. "I watched you. You're not in charge of the punishment." He nodded at the camera in the corner. "It's whoever's recording us. You're middle management. They decide."

"Yes," said the Questioner. "Do not ask about the camera. You're safer not knowing." Another note. "What is your relative age?"

"None of your-" Ginger began.

The Doctor was shocked again.

"Alright, alright!" Ginger shouted. "24 Earth years! Stop hurting him!"

"Your compliance is appreciated," said the Questioner. It made another note. "At what age did you meet the Doctor?"

"23."

"So you've been traveling together for a year."

"Not exactly. I didn't immediately leave with him."

The Questioner looked up in surprise. "You didn't?"

"No."

"Fascinating." Another note was made. "Have you been in contact with the being known as Cupid?" There was hesitation. "Either of you may answer." Silence. "Punishment will be swift if the question is not answered."

"I don't know who that is." Ginger couldn't say why she felt the need to lie, but she did.

"This is your final answer?"

"What, like, you're asking me if I know a fairytale?" she mocked. "I know stories about Cupid, but I can't be in contact with a story."

"Have either of you been contacted by beings known as The Red Herring, The Queen of Hearts, or Sirenia?"

"No."

"Have either of you recieved information about The Red Herring, The Queen of Hearts, or Sirenia?"

"We don't know who they are," the Doctor said.

The Questioner spoke again, but into the microphone instead of to them. "Subjects U13 are sexually active with each other, of course."

"Oi!" Ginger protested. "What business is that of yours?"

"Do you protest this fact?" the Questioner asked. "It would be highly unusual for you to not engage in sexual activity with each other." Neither of them answered. "Then we proceed. You two will separate."

"We'll what?" asked the Doctor.

"Separate. Promptly. You must cease physical contact until permission is given."

His arms tightened around her. "I'm not letting her go. Torture me all you want-"

This time Ginger screamed as the magnetization in the room increased. The zipper on her dress popped off and stuck to the wall.

"Alright, leave her alone, I'll do it, I'll do it!" He gently placed her on the floor and backed away from her.

The magnetization went back to normal and Ginger struggled to catch her breath. She reached out for him out of instinct before realizing how stupid that was and retracting her hand.

"According to basic calculations, time is ending," said the Questioner. "You are willing to leave her. This is excellent progress."

The Doctor felt as if he'd been doused with cold water. "'Willing to leave her'? What does this mean?"

"That was a test," the Questioner said. "To see your willingness to leave if you must. Not all Subjects pass the test. Most, in fact, don't. It will be interesting to see if you have the strength when it matters. She will not."

Ginger was greatly offended by this. "What the hell are you on about?"

"Subject B never survives," said the Questioner. 

This angered the Doctor. "If you hurt her-"

The Questioner shook its head. "Not by our hand. By hers."

The Doctor felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. This reflected a fear that he'd had for some time.

Ginger's head was still clouded by the magnets surrounding her. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Now conducting stress test," said the Questioner. "Subject U13B, the Doctor is leaving you. He must."

"I'm not-" the Doctor protested.

"Subject U13A, if you speak during this process, you will both be incapacitated."

"But I'm not-"

A swift shock was administered to the Doctor at the same time that the magnetization was increased on Ginger. When that ended, the Doctor found himself temporarily unable to speak and Ginger was so weak that she couldn't open her eyes.

"Doctor?" she called, softly. But he couldn't respond or move.

"He's leaving, Ginger," the Questioner said. "It's imperative that he go. He has to meet fate."

Ginger shook her head. "No. He can't. I'm...protecting him. I promised."

The Questioner was evidently disappointed. "Yes, that is an expected response. But you can't protect him. To protect him is to destroy him. Do you understand?"

She shook her head. "No. I...protect him."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why protect him?"

"Because he's an idiot."

"No, that is not why. Why protect him?"

"I told you why."

"You lied. Lie to me again and you'll both be punished. Why protect him?"

"Because he can't protect himself-"

The magnetization was increased and the Doctor got another shock.

Ginger heard the screaming. "No, don't hurt him, I swear I'll make you regret it if you hurt him."

"There," said the Questioner. "The anger. The fury of the Traveler. We're prepared to die horribly if we must, so you cannot threaten us. We know what we're dealing with. Why does it hurt you more when he suffers than when you do?"

"I was born suffering," she spat. "He doesn't deserve it."

"But that is not all."

"That's all."

"He's leaving. If not now, then soon."

"You're lying."

"What makes you think that."

"He wouldn't leave me."

"He said this to you?" She hesitated. "He said that he wouldn't leave you?"

"Not in so many words. But he won't."

"Why?"

"Because he won't."

"Why?"

"Because we have a connection. You wouldn't understand."

The magnetization was increased again and the Doctor got another shock.

"Because I won't let him, okay, is that what you want to hear? I won't let him leave! He can't leave me, he can't leave..." 

The Doctor wished he could speak or move, but he was still recovering from the shock. He was surprised to see her begin to cry.

The Questioner was disappointed again. "What will you do to keep him with you?"

"Anything," she replied, somewhat deliriously. "I'll do anything it takes to protect him."

"Because you love him?"

"Don't be stupid."

"Think of your future," said the Questioner. "Think of a future without the Doctor in it. What do you see?"

"A world without the Doctor in it?" Ginger repeated. "I don't see me in it. I couldn't live...I couldn't go back to feeling how that felt..."

"You're in so much pain?"

"All the time," she admitted. "Except when he's with me. It doesn't hurt when he's touching me. So he can't go..."

"Subject U13A may now initiate physical contact with Subject U13B if he wishes," said the Questioner.

The Doctor wasn't certain if he still didn't have a voice or if he simply didn't have the words. He crawled over to her and held her again. She relaxed at his touch but didn't open her eyes.

"You're back, you came back..." she whispered.

"Didn't go anywhere," he managed to croak out. He was starting to be really worried about what magnets did to her. He'd never seen anything like it.

"I do have to admit to being confused about these results," the Questioner said. "Subject U13A has a surprisingly optimistic outlook on his own, but Subject U13B shows every symptom that leads to destruction. More data is needed." 

The woman behind the camera had watched this all with mounting interest. She was hungry for more. She pressed a button on the microphone in front of her which allowed her to make contact with the Questioner's earpiece.

The Questioner listened to her orders. "I must briefly withdraw. In my absence, the magnetization of this room will return to normal levels. Your cuffs are being deactivated."

The window returned to only looking like a simple mirror and Ginger breathed a sigh of relief when the magnetic levels in the room went back to being barely noticeable. The metal cuffs on their wrists popped off and fell to the floor.

"How are you feeling?" the Doctor asked.

"Better," she admitted. "Shaky, but better." She frowned at him. "Those shocks sounded nasty. When I get my hands on these people..."

He was very disturbed by a lot of what he'd just seen. "I don't want you doing anything, understand? We'll find out what they want from us, but we won't sink down to their level."

She nodded. "Yeah, alright. We still need to find a way out of here." She tried to get up, but was still too weak.

"Don't try to move," he said gently.

A slat opened in the solid wall where the door had been and a tray of food was pushed through. A robotic voice in the intercoms said _**Sustenance.**_

Ginger eyed it warily. "I'm not eating that."

The Questioner's voice came from the intercom. "You must eat. Your systems are weak. We need you alive and in this form. We can't risk regeneration or it skews the data set."

The Doctor had to admit he was very concerned about how pale Ginger looked. "You do need to eat," he said. "I'll help you-"

"I can feed myself," she snapped.

That was better. That was more like her.

"Don't even think about using that sonic screwdriver," the Questioner said. "We left it with you because it will not work here."

_Ah_, he thought. _Well, that explains it._

...

She felt a bit better after she ate, but she still didn't feel great. The Doctor continued to hold her.

"I can't figure out why they've taken off the cuffs," Ginger said. "Why would they take away their only way to punish us?"

"That did worry me a little as well," he admitted. 

"Makes you wonder if they don't have something worse." She continued scanning the place with her eyes. "There has to be a way out of here. Have you found it yet?"

He'd been a little preoccupied. "You'd be alright, wouldn't you?"

"With what?"

"If I wasn't there anymore."

She froze. "Why wouldn't you be there anymore?"

"I just want to know that you'd be okay. If anything happened."

"You're not worried about what I said before? I barely remember it, it didn't mean anything."

"I just don't want to cause you to, you know, go Dark Willow on me."

She didn't immediately answer. "No promises."

"Ginger-"

"I don't know what I would do without you," she admitted. "I don't want to imagine it. I wasn't so good before you and I can't...think about this, okay? I don't need you, but...If I admit that I don't want you to go, will you stay?"

She was scaring him a little bit, but he didn't show it. "Help me find a way out. I'm not going to immediately trust that the sonic doesn't work."

...

The sonic didn't work. Eventually the Questioner came back on the intercoms.

"We need to assess your risk. Stand away from each other."

"Whatcha gonna do?" Ginger asked. "You gonna punish us without the cuffs?"

"We don't need the cuffs to punish. We've gone to the final phase. Stand away. No silent communication is permitted."

"Why don't you face us?" Ginger asked, noticing how the mirror hadn't turned back into a window. "Too afraid?"

"I will not be goaded by a B Subject," the Questioner said calmly. "Away."

Ginger and the Doctor exchanged a look and stood away from each other.

"And now?" asked the Doctor.

"We have a very important question," the Questioner replied. "This is the final question. It's important that it be answered honestly."

"Get it over with," the Doctor said.

"Have you been in contact with a being known as the Corsair?"

They both froze.

The Doctor figured that it wasn't wise to deny knowing the Corsair. These people seemed to know a lot. "The Corsair and I are old friends. What kind of contact are you referring to?"

"Recent contact," pressed the Questioner. 

"Not that I can recall," the Doctor said.

"I think you're lying. Describe the form and gender presentation of the current regeneration of the Corsair."

"Honestly, we haven't seen the Corsair," the Doctor said.

"Has the Corsair pressured you two to leave each other? Has the Corsair presented you with any threats or ultimatums? Has the Corsair told you specifics of where he's been and what he's working against?"

"No to all of those."

"Has the Corsair told you the identity of Subject U13A in an attempt to get you to leave her?"

The Doctor glanced at Ginger. "I wasn't aware the Corsair knew that much."

"Has the Corsair employed any weapons in his fight against the Trickster?"

The Doctor and Ginger glanced at each other and immediately knew they'd made a mistake by doing so.

"No," the Doctor said.

"Not to our knowledge."

"Your silent communication spoke volumes," said the Questioner. "You know something. You will not like our punishment if you continue to lie."

"We don't know anything about a weapon," said Ginger.

"This is your final warning."

"Honestly, we don't know anything," Ginger said, crossing her arms. "So go ahead and magnetize me."

There was a pause. "I'm honestly quite sorry that we have to do this."

The magnetic field wasn't increased, but the temperature in the room immediately dropped. There was a strange noise that Ginger couldn't identify.

"We're filtering all the oxygen from the room," the Questioner said. "You will now have approximately 30 minutes to answer truthfully before you suffocate."

...

The minutes passed and they still refused to answer the question. They were beginning to find it hard to breathe as it got colder and colder in the cell. Ginger reached out to the Doctor automatically, still not enjoying the cold.

"Silent communication is not permitted," said the Questioner. Ginger gave up on touching him. "Please answer the question. What is the Corsair's weapon against the Trickster?"

"Why?" the Doctor asked. "Do you work for the Trickster?"

"Our employer is more impartial," the Questioner replied. "Please answer the question. What is the Corsair's weapon against the Trickster?"

The Doctor and Ginger both knew that it was Alex, even if they didn't understand why. They refused to give her up, especially since they didn't know what would happen to her if they answered.

"Go to hell," Ginger said.

"You have 7 minutes," the Questioner said. "You'd be advised to just answer. I expect Subject U13B will answer. Anything to keep you alive. Have you seen the weapon?"

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you," Ginger said.

"Ginger-" the Doctor warned.

"I've got to tell them what I saw," Ginger said.

"What did you see?" the Questioner asked, eagerly.

"I saw...I saw Lon Chaney walking with the Queen. Doing the Werewolves of London."

"I...beg your pardon?" asked the Questioner.

The Doctor caught on. "And I saw Lon Chaney Jr walking with the Queen. Doing the Werewolves of London."

"I don't understand-"

"You know," Ginger said. "I saw a werewolf drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic's. His hair was perfect."

"What is the meaning of this obfuscation?" the Questioner demanded. "You waste time-"

"AWOOOO WEREWOLVES OF LONDON!" Ginger and the Doctor shouted together, dissolving into laughter. The laughter subsided quickly. It was painful.

"You're depleting oxygen further," said the Questioner. "You need to answer the question. Your own survival depends on it."

That's when Ginger remembered something. Suddenly, she had a plan.

"Doctor..." she said, slyly. "I'm cold...I think I'm getting the frostbites..."

He didn't understand this sudden change. "What?" 

She took his hand and placed it on her thigh. "I need you to warm me up..."

The Questioner was scandalized. "No touching is permitted! No silent communication is permitted!"

"Then punish us," Ginger said. "We're going to die anyway, right?"

The Doctor got the thoughts she transmitted through the skin-to-skin contact. "We'll burn up oxygen faster that way," he warned.

She climbed onto his lap. "Exactly." 

He suddenly completely understood the plan. He had to admit that the idea was extremely appealing even when he was beginning to wonder if it was the right thing to do. She kissed him and he forgot all rationality and held her to him as she worked to unbutton his trousers.

"Stop that at once!" the Questioner shouted. 

"What are you going to do?" Ginger replied. "Actually let us die? Because you can't do that. You said earlier that even regeneration will skew your results. I think you need us both alive. So either kill us now, or get out of our way." She immediately went back to kissing him.

A moment later, the main door opened and oxygen flooded back into the room. The Doctor and Ginger both took a gulp of it before going back to kissing.

The Questioner was standing in the doorway. "You're right, okay? We're not allowed to kill you. We actually can't do anything else. Our orders are to let you go." They didn't respond. "Did you hear me? You're free to go."

"We _heard _you," Ginger said. "But as you can see, we're a little busy. Close the door behind you, would you? We'll tell you when we're finished."

The Doctor knew he could stop this. But he didn't. It was so hard to behave rationally when he wanted this so badly.

The Questioner left them at last, closing the door as instructed.

"What about the camera?" The Doctor asked.

Ginger glared at it. "Let the coward watch." She went back to kissing him and they forgot about it entirely.

Up in the observation deck, the lady behind the camera watched with mounting curiosity. As Ginger's dress was pushed further up, the lady behind the camera reached up to press Record. She zoomed in on the pair of them and just watched. Then she reached under her own skirt...

...

Ginger and the Doctor hastily put their clothes back on.

"Good bluff," he admitted.

"Calling theirs?" She asked. "Yeah. Fun bluff. I wish bluffing was always that fun-"

"Not sure it was a good idea."

She stopped short. "Well, fine, think what you want." She hammered on the door. "We're ready to come out now!" No answer. "Honestly, the service here is terrible." She hammered on the door again. "Hello! You said you would let us go!"

The door opened by itself. Ginger peered around it. 

"There's nobody there," she said.

"What?" The Doctor said. "There must be..."

They stepped into the corridor and looked around.

"Hello?" Shouted Ginger. "We've got questions!"

"Where could they have gone?" The Doctor said.

They stepped into a wide area that must've been used as a communal seating area. Ginger gasped and flattened herself against the wall.

Every wolf person they'd encountered was lying dead across the room, their charred remains scattered over the tables. The Doctor rushed over to examine them.

"Dead," he said. "All of them. They were-"

"Stabbed?" Ginger asked. "Several times?"

"Yes," he said, straightening up to look at her more closely. "How did you know that?"

She pointed to a message that he hadn't noticed before because it was carved into the floor.

_If you didn't want me, you should've let me go._

"I was with you the whole time," she insisted, shaking her head. "It can't be me, I was with you."

"Yes, you were." If he'd thought it was cold in that deoxygenated cell, that was nothing compared to how cold he was now. 

"It's a message," she nodded frantically. "Someone is playing a sick joke on me-"

"Why would they do that?" He asked. "How could THIS be a message for you? What would it even mean?" She didn't answer, only stood frozen staring at the carnage. "Ginger, what's going on?"

She snapped out of it and began hyperventilating. She looked straight at him as her eyes filled with tears. "I can't. Please don't ask me to, Doctor, please don't ask me to."

He needed answers, but he recognized an autistic meltdown when he saw one. She was seconds away from going entirely non-verbal. He took her in his arms. 

"Shhh it's alright," he said, holding her shaking form.

"Don't leave, please don't leave..."

He was terrified of a great many things at that moment, the most pressing being what would happen to her if he left and what would happen if he didn't. He'd thought she was getting better, but this was proof that she was always a second away from deteriorating completely.

...

They discovered that they were on a ship orbiting Earth and there wasn't a soul alive on it. They found the observation room, but there were no records left anywhere of what had occurred. They found a transporter room and the Doctor got them back to Earth and the TARDIS.

"I'll let you rest," the Doctor said, putting her down on her bed.

She was terrified of the notion, but allowed him to leave.

The Doctor went back to his own room and tried to sleep. He was exhausted, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. It was strange being without her. It was strange not being able to just talk to her. After a time he found the silence so unbearable that he decided he simply had to get up and see her.

He opened his bedroom door to find her on the other side with her hand poised to knock. She hastily put it down.

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted. 

"I was just coming to see you," he admitted. "Do you want to talk?"

She shook her head. "No. I can't. Can I stay here with you? I don't want to be alone."

He stood aside and gestured for her to come in. She threw herself onto the bed stiffly and stared at the ceiling. He nervously climbed onto the bed next to her.

"What now?" He asked.

"Just be here," she whispered.

And they stayed like that, hardly sleeping but never talking or touching, for the rest of the night. 


	42. Mandy Goes to Med School

Kira exited her last class of the day and was surprised to find Alex waiting outside. She wasn't surprised that Alex knew where to find her - they'd met there several times before - but she was surprised that Alex had shown up. They hadn't so much as texted since Valentine's Day.

"Can we talk?" Alex asked.

Things had changed a lot in the past few weeks, so she decided now was a good time to finally get the closure they needed. She nodded.

...

"You remember that time you said that Ginger was probably an alien too?" Alex asked her. "Turns out you were right about that. She's the same kind as Doc, she just didn't know because they put her through a machine to make her human."

"Is that why you wanted to talk to me?" asked Kira.

"No," she said. "I wanted to tell you that when I found out, but I...Well, I didn't know if you wanted to hear from me. It's stupid, you know? Pointless and stupid that just because we're not together, we can't talk?"

"I've had a lot of perspective too," Kira said. "Maybe there were warning signs. Big flashing neon signs telling me that you weren't ready, and I plowed on ahead anyway. Maybe we're just not supposed to be together."

"I think maybe I was scared," Alex admitted. "Scared that things would get harder down the road, you know? I liked being with you, it made me feel seen. But being seen was a bit vulnerable, you know? I couldn't handle that." She sighed. "Kira, I've been unfair to you. When you came back into my life, I accidentally allowed myself to only see you as a supporting character to my narrative. But you're not just a sidekick - you've always been better than that. You deserve to go out in the world and find your real story, because I bet it's going to be incredible. I wish we could've worked, but it was never really right. I saw us as a perfect love story and that blinded me to the fact that maybe neither of us are ready for each other. I want you to know I do love you. But I'm not in love with you. And I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out.'" She blinked rapidly, trying her hardest not to cry.

"I think I wanted to be your supporting character at the time," Kira admitted. "It was easier just to be carried along with the narrative, you know? Then I wouldn't have to figure out who I really am."

"Yeah I get that," Alex said.

"And I think you're right. About us going in different directions. We were dragging each other down. I said I loved you and...I think I meant it. But I said it because that's what you do in a story, right? You make a confession when you think you're going to die. I liked being a love interest."

"I don't regret any of it, you know. Or at least...not most of it."

"Me neither."

They walked in silence for a moment, both feeling the end of an era.

"So...Ginger really was an alien?" Kira asked.

Alex smiled. "Yeah."

"I called it!" she said, triumphantly. "I _said _she had to be, didn't I?"

"You did," Alex chuckled. "Once again, I lack imagination."

"You don't lack imagination," Kira said, shocked she would say that. "You just live the kind of life where you've never had to wait for inspiration. Which, actually..."

"What?" Alex asked, noticing her change of tone.

"Well, it's just..." She swallowed. "I think I've decided to move to Japan, at least for a little while."

"Oh."

"It's just, my grandmother isn't gonna live long. Did I ever tell you she was in Hiroshima when the bomb dropped?"

"You didn't."

"She was 14. She never came down with Atom Bomb Disease, but she swears the cancer she has now is probably caused by radiation sickness. I just...I want to be back there closer to her. But also...I think it's an opportunity to learn who I am. My gran lives near Sagami Bay now, but I've actually never been to Hiroshima. I think I ought to go. And maybe learn about my culture, heritage...Everything I always pushed away when I was trying to fit in with the English. Suppose I'll have to learn the language properly now."

"Oh!" Alex said, trying to be helpful even though she felt quite sad. "Doc and Ginger both speak Japanese! Maybe one of them could teach you? Doc would probably be a good teacher, but Ginger would probably teach you the swear words."

Kira chuckled. "Thanks, but I grew up in a Japanese family. I _know _the swear words. Plus I really think this is something I need to do on my own. With my family."

"Fair point. So. When do you leave?"

"As soon as exams are over."

"That soon?"

"It feels like a lifetime to me. In some ways, it has been." She saw Alex's expression. "I'll be back, though. And you've got access to a spaceship, so you can come see me any time. You said I'm not some minor character in your life and, well, I won't make it so easy to let you write me off. You're simply not allowed to, Alex Mitchell."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she smiled.

They hugged goodbye and went their separate ways. Alex didn't know what to do with herself. She could always just go home, but then Sky and Sarah Jane would want to know everything. She needed to be somewhere that would distract her.

She pulled out her phone and dialed a number. She waited while it rang for what seemed like an eternity, but just as it was about to hit voicemail a voice picked up on the other end.

"Alex," the Doctor said, sounding mildly surprised. "Sorry, was in the middle of something."

"You got a minute?" she asked, a bit anxiously.

"Yeah, for you, of course," he said. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine," she said, working to hold her voice steady. "A little bored. Wondered if you needed help with anything."

"Who's that?" a faint voice asked on the other line.

"Just Alex," the Doctor explained. "She's wondering if we needed any help."

"Oooh gimme, gimme," the voice said. There was the sound of the phone being handed over. "Hey, kid, how's it hanging?"

"Bit boring, actually," Alex said. "I'd appreciate your help livening things up."

"Yeah, well, we're a lively bunch," Ginger said. "It's actually funny you should call, you're the answer to a problem we're having. You in for some undercover work?"

"What would I have to do?"

Ginger chuckled. "You're not gonna like this, but as the great Velma Kelly once said..." She sang this next part. "I can't do it alone."

...

Alex met them out in the garden some time later, after telling Sarah Jane she was popping out for a bit. Alex opened the door to the TARDIS.

"Alright, so what's the big mission this time?" She stopped short, suddenly realizing they had company. The Doctor was standing on the opposite side of the control panel facing her, but there was a nun in there as well with her back turned to Alex. "Who's the nun?" Alex asked. "And where's Ginger?"

"The answer to both of your questions, kid, is 'nun of your business'," the nun said, in a familiar voice.

Alex laughed in disbelief, quickly crossing the room to gawk at the nun. "_Ginger?_ You're a _nun _now? Since when? What's going on here, is it opposite day?"

"It's an undercover job," Ginger grumbled, obviously hating the entire situation. "If you ever tell _anyone _I will _end _you." She smiled, suddenly. "Anyway, I won't have to suffer alone. We've got you a Catholic school uniform."

"Oh no way," Alex scoffed, shaking her head. "I'm not doing that."

"Yeah you are, if you wanna be on this case."

"What case is that?"

...

Rewind.

Ginger and the Doctor had returned to the TARDIS. They hadn't slept at all, but not because of their usual shenanigans. They both were lying on the Doctor's bed, staring at the ceiling. The events that had occurred on that spaceship only hours earlier continued to haunt them. Normally they could bounce back from anything, but the torture and the charred bodies of the wolf aliens were burned into their memories.

"You didn't sleep," the Doctor finally said, after hours of this.

"Neither did you," she replied. "I couldn't get it out of my head."

"What?"

"The sound of you screaming."

"Funny."

"How?"

"Well 'funny' might be the wrong word...It's just that I couldn't get the sound of you screaming out of my head."

"It was there every time I closed my eyes," she admitted. "Louder than the rest."

Sometimes Ginger said things that made him go ice cold. This was one of them. It was one thing for him to hear the screams when he closed his eyes, but she shouldn't. He couldn't begin to understand what she meant. "Horrible. I suppose you're gonna want breakfast?"

"No. Don't feel good."

"Headaches again?"

"Worst one I've had in a long time. Might be the worst one ever. Feel kinda sick."

"I should've checked you out when we got back last night. I thought you could use some rest. Would you allow me to run some tests?"

She nodded. He got up and helped her to her feet. He didn't like how unsteady she was. She was shaking like a baby bird. She was so small and fragile.

...

He helped her to the infirmary and ran tests while she lay silently on the cot. 

"Your cells don't seem to be producing Artron Energy at the rate they usually do," the Doctor said, as he consulted the results. "Your body is severely depleted. It doesn't make sense."

"Why not?"

"Because you shouldn't be able to burn through it. Artron Energy is an essential part of Time Lord biology. You can't regenerate without it. You don't burn through it before you've gone through a lot of regenerations. The way your body handles Artron Energy is very irregular. It seemed to heal you before, after..." He still couldn't bring himself to talk about her suicide attempt. "Which, strictly speaking, isn't its function. Your body naturally produces more of it, which is interesting."

"But I'm not producing more now?"

He shook his head. "Maybe I'm wrong about that part. Actually, I think I am. It's not so much that you produce more, I think you have a certain amount stored in your cells that gets released in emergencies because you can't access it normally. If I had to guess, I'd say that this accounts for why you feel sick right now."

"How?"

"You used it all up," he explained. "Magnets clearly negatively affect you somehow. I'm not sure how that works. But my guess is that your body was trying to fight back against whatever the magnets did to you by releasing more Artron Energy and now you have none. I think our best bet is to get you back to Cardiff. It's possible that the Rift stimulates production and that the positive effects you feel from it are you storing it away."

"Alright."

He finally looked at her. "You don't sound enthusiastic?"

Something was boiling inside both of them, simmering just below the surface. 

"I mean, what's the point?"

"In making you feel better?"

"Yeah. Because I won't, you know? It's just going to keep being bad because it's me and I fuck things up."

"You haven't done anything wrong."

"You don't know that."

"I'd like to."

She laughed bitterly. "You really wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"I mean you're already looking at me different. I know I did something, but I barely remember what I said."

"We don't have to talk about this while you're not feeling well."

"I'm never feeling well, that's the point. What did I do? Because I'm getting these vibes off you like 'it was so simple in the moonlight, now it's so complicated'. But it doesn't need to be, we can just ignore it and it can be the way it was."

_Steam was rising..._

He looked away. "You can't keep talking like that."

"Like what? I honestly don't know what I did."

"You keep saying these things that remind me of...Someone I was involved with a long time ago. Someone who was always very possessive of me."

"Don't compare me to any of your silly human girls-"

_Boiling over._

"Don't call them silly human girls, and you just did it again! Sometimes you're word for word what Koschei would've said in that situation and it's terrifying."

"Sorry I scare you with something I don't even know I'm doing, but I don't see how that's my fault-"

"Whose screaming do you normally hear when you sleep, Ginger?"

She bristled and forced herself to her feet. "That is _none _of your business."

"You're right, it isn't," he admitted. "But I still want to know. It might be important."

"Says who?"

"Says everything that just happened yesterday! They were asking you very specific questions. Did you know them?"

"No, I'd never met them before."

"But you were very afraid when you saw them dead. You kept saying you were with me, that you couldn't do that, that it was a message...but then you just shut down. Wouldn't say another word. Why won't you let me in? I might be able to help."

"No. I don't need help. I've got it handled."

"Do you?"

She was having trouble standing, but she didn't want to sit back down. "I don't want to talk about this." She rushed from the room, out to the control room.

He followed her. "Where are you going?"

"You're taking me to Cardiff, right? So let's do that. I'm sick of feeling this way."

"Maybe you'd feel better if you'd talk to me. Because I'll be honest, I thought you were getting better. But now I'm not so sure."

She stopped in front of the control panel to glare at him. "What does that mean?"

"How many people have you been, Ginger?"

"What kind of question is that from someone who's regenerated a bunch of times?" she asked dismissively, starting to pace.

"You're several people for me. I thought maybe I was bringing out a different part of you, but now...Maybe you're just fractured. But you're not stable."

"I never pretended to be stable." She laughed bitterly and gripped a railing, swaying slightly. She glared at him. "Is this really going to be the deal breaker for you? You gonna leave me because I won't let you know me? Because that's hypocritical."

"First of all, I never said I was leaving you," he said. "Also, I keep trying to let you know me. Do you know how rare that is? I hide my real self from everyone. I want you to know me."

"We don't have to do this."

"Why not? Why are you so afraid of having a conversation?"

"I'm not afraid of having a conversation. We talk all the time!"

"Debating the merits of Twin Peaks isn't exactly meaningful conversation."

"Well too bad, because that's what you get from me-"

"I don't get it, you don't want to know anything? At all? You're so curious and you always want to know everything! You always have an opinion. Sometimes it's like you don't really understand what's happening."

"That is _so _condescending!"

"I'm sorry, I know it came out that way, but I didn't mean it like that. I'm just." He closed his eyes and leaned against the console. "Concerned. About you. And it makes me wonder if I'm doing the right thing by giving in to what I want. If you want to know the truth, I'm confused. I don't know what you want from me."

"You know what I want."

"But do you?" He looked at her. "Do you really understand why you do the things you do? Because your moods change so quickly and you do things sometimes that I'm not sure you're comfortable with. It leaves me in the dark because I don't know you well enough to know which part of you is really you. Sometimes you look at me and it's like magic. But then you say you don't love me. That it's a stupid idea that you'd love me. And I don't know what to make of that."

"Wait, slow down, when did I say-"

"When they were torturing you. They asked if you love me. You said 'don't be stupid'."

"And that's what's got you all twisted up? We're not doing this." She let go of the railing and turned away from him.

"I just don't understand what I am to you-"

"Don't," she warned, glancing back at him with steely eyes and one pointing finger. "Really. We don't need to talk about this." She crossed her arms and turned away again. "It's too complicated."

"It doesn't have to be. Make it simple. Because I'm not sure you know how you feel about me sometimes."

"Oh for god's sake, Doctor!" she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. "This is a waste of time. Why are you so hung up on this? It's ridiculous. You knew going into this that I don't _do _this kind of thing well."

"What, talk about feelings?"

"Yes! So how about we don't!" She let her arms fall to her side and turned to him to plead. "How about you just accept the truth?"

"Which is?"

"That to have me around is to accept that you'll never know me, because you really don't want to. And I can't be your girlfriend. That's not something I can be. I can't belong to anyone. Not ever. It's like you say, I can't be boxed in. I can't live my life on one side of an ampersand." She laughed again, the slightest edge of desperation entering her voice as she begged him to understand. "It's funny that you, of all people, would think I was trying to be possessive about you. Because that's not me. I'm not that girl."

"You said you'd do anything to keep me."

"Did I? I can't really remember what I said. But you can bet it wasn't some romantic jealousy."

"Then what?"

"I'm not possessive, but I'm protective. I protect you."

"From what?"

"You were threatened by an Ood! I'm on permanent high alert!"

"How many times do I have to tell you that the Ood didn't threaten me?"

"Whatever, I just have to make sure you're safe."

"That's not your job."

"Oh and it's your job to be concerned about me?"

"I just don't want you doing anything bad to keep me safe. I don't need protecting."

"You do. And as long as I live, I'll make sure you're safe. You say you don't think I know how I feel about you?"

He looked at her for a moment, unsure whether to be moved by how much she cared for him or terrified of it. "Let's just get you to Cardiff, alright?"

"You gonna leave me there?"

"No. I just want you to feel better."

...

Ginger sat in the doorway of the TARDIS and soaked in the Rift energy.

"You may be right," she said to the Doctor, who hadn't moved from the console but who was still watching her closely.

"About what?"

"The stuff about the Artron energy. My headache is gone now. I'm just hungry."

"I'll get breakfast started."

"And then what?"

"Whatever you want."

...

The Doctor decided that he didn't want to have to think about this right now, and Ginger was grateful. He suggested that they go see Chicago, because Ginger had always said that she'd been meaning to see it. Of course she meant the musical. He thought she meant the city.

"No, it's still cool," she laughed as they sat outside an ice cream parlor in 1970s Chicago. "I've never been to Chicago, so it's still neat."

The Doctor was relieved to hear a genuine laugh from her. It was a positive sign. Things were returning to normal.

They took their cones and walked for a while. They'd just decided to go back to the TARDIS when they heard something from a nearby alley.

The girl couldn't've been older than 14. She had black hair, and was wearing a Catholic school uniform. There was an air of desperation to her - as if she was up against something shameful that held her hostage. She was crying.

Just then, another young girl who had to be a year or two older came running out from a rusted side gate in the nearby school. She seemed to be in a hurry and glanced around, relief evident in her face when she saw the other girl.

"Lilliana, there you are," she whispered, fervently. "I've been looking everywhere. You've got to come back inside before someone else notices you're gone-"

The new girl, who had long blonde hair and wore the same uniform as the first girl, tried to pull this Lilliana back toward the opened gate. "I can't go back in there," Lilliana said. "Please don't ask me to go back-"

"There's no other option," the other girl insisted. "Come back inside, we'll talk options there. You've just got to be rational about it-"

"Excuse me," Ginger said, walking up to the girls who suddenly appeared quite frightened to be caught. The unnamed blonde got instantly defensive to cover it, crossing her arms. Ginger noted the posture. "Everything alright over here?"

"Yes, everything's fine," the blonde hissed. "What's it to you?"

"It's just, your friend here looks a bit distressed," Ginger pressed on. "My associate and I specialize in helping damsels in distress."

"Your...?" the blonde looked over Ginger's shoulder and saw the Doctor. "Look, just leave us alone, alright? There's nothing to see here."

"But we can help," the Doctor said, finally stepping up. "If something is the matter, we don't want to just leave you."

A car door slammed around the corner, startling both of the young girls.

"Come on, Lilliana," the blonde said, spooked. "We've got to get you back inside." She started steering her back towards the gate.

"Wait just a-" the Doctor started, before he felt a hand encircle his elbow. He glanced back to see Ginger shaking her head at him.

"Won't do any good chasing after them," she said. "That kid's got her defenses up, she'll give you nothing."

He bit back the phrase 'it takes one to know one'. "You don't have a bad feeling about this?" he asked, wondering how she could be so incurious.

"Of course I do," she said. "But you're going about it wrong. We can't chase them in there and pry. Whatever's happened to them, those kids see us as grownups. Grownups are rarely trustworthy, and always unhelpful."

"Again with the concerningly bleak observation."

"No..." she mused, ignoring this. She walked around the brick corner of the alley wall to head back onto the street. She followed the wall until she found herself at the front of some rather large gates. Behind them were four quite large buildings.

"What d'ya reckon's in there?" the Doctor asked her.

"I dunno...some kind of school?" Ginger said, just as her eyes found the sign. "St Andrews Academy for Troubled Youths." She shivered. "That's not ominous at all."

"You alright?" he asked her, noticing the shift in her mood.

"I dunno," she admitted, crossing her arms. "Something about this place gives me a bad feeling."

"You're just saying that because it's a Catholic school," he teased. "You've got the frights from proximity to Catholicism."

"Have not!" she defended herself. "I don't get frights because of anything!"

"Still rebelling then? Acting out against your Catholic upbringing?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I was raised Protestant," she said, dismissively. "Not that a look back into the history of the Catholic Church wouldn't give me plenty of reason to be wary. But tell me you're not getting the creeps looking at this place."

"No, no...It's definitely ominous," he said, sizing the place up. "So how do we get in there?"

"What?" Ginger was alarmed at the prospect. "Why go in there?"

"To help that girl, of course," he said, surprised.

"But it's a Catholic school!" she protested. "I'll burst into flames immediately!"

...

"Yeah, I'm not doing that," Ginger said, throwing the veil to the floor. "Not wearing that, no way, not in a million years, sorry you can't make me."

"Not even if I bribe you?" the Doctor asked. "I thought that whole thing about bursting into flames sounded, ah, hot."

She picked up on his meaning and seemed genuinely to be considering the proposition before remembering herself. "Nope, no way, absolutely not. I'm _not _going in there and dressing like a nun. End of story. That would be a fashion disaster of epic proportions."

"Alright, alright, you don't have to do it," he said. "Won't you be bored sitting round the TARDIS all day, though?"

"I can catch up on my shows," she said, stubbornly. "You can report back later. I'm just _not _going in there."

"Fair enough," he said.

"How are you getting in anyway?" Ginger asked him.

"With this, of course," he held up his psychic paper. "Orders from the Pope himself that I must come on as a school counselor. I learned last time I went undercover at a school that I don't want to be doing any of the actual teaching."

"You've been undercover at a school before?" she asked.

"Yeah, ages ago," he said, in a suspiciously offhand way. "With Sarah Jane and, uh..."

Ginger didn't have to hear the end of that sentence to know who he meant.

"And, uh, Mickey and K-9," he finished, hurriedly. "And, y'know, this list is getting a bit long."

"Right," Ginger said, feeling it best to change the subject. "So a counselor?"

"Yeah, I thought it was a good plan," he said, leaping at the chance to change the subject. "That girl looked like she needed to talk. Sure you don't wanna come in?"

She crossed her arms. "I'm not wearing the nun outfit. End of story." She had a sudden horrific thought. "Wait this isn't one of those things, is it? You don't have a _nun _thing, do you?"

His eyes suddenly got wide. "No, no, nothing like that-"

"Because I'm comfortable with us dressing up, but I draw the line at me being a nun. I won't do it. That's gross." She gasped. "Your papers of authentication don't say you're a _priest_, do they? Because I'm not calling you father or daddy or-"

"No, no, no, nothing like that, I promise," he said, alarmed her mind had gone there.

"That's just gross, I'm not doing that," she repeated. "I always thought the daddy thing was weirdly Oedipal."

He chuckled. "And our 'Johnny' game wasn't?"

"That's complicated and if you don't watch yourself we won't play it again," she warned him. "You'll just be stuck with the Astronomer and the Epic Moon, you mark my words."

"Now, now, let's not get hasty..."

"And what's the thing with men having things for nuns? Like I just really don't get it? You know what, actually, I don't want to know."

"You know, it's probably for the best that you're not doing this job," he said.

...

The Doctor set himself up in his new post, quickly becoming bored with it. It was all rather dull compared to last time. He'd discovered the girl with the blonde hair was named Jill. Lilliana had been sent home the night before the Doctor had taken over his post, so he didn't get an opportunity to speak with her. Whenever he tried to ask questions to ascertain where she'd gone, he got cryptic answers about how she'd stepped out of line. But he suspected the other girls in her group as well as the headmaster, Jim Rathbone, knew more than they were letting on.

...

He returned to the TARDIS later that night and was immediately assaulted by the sound of the Cranberries. He looked around for the source of the song and spotted Ginger sitting on the floor underneath the control panel, fast asleep against it. He smiled and came to sit next to her.

_"And now, it's all the same to me,_

_So be whatever you want to be,_  
_And go wherever you need to go._

_And when it all seems like a mistake,_  
_Take whatever you need to take,_  
_And leave the rest for my own sake._

_I will always,_  
_Go beside you,_  
_You will always,_  
_Understand..."_

Ginger stirred as soon as he sat down and smiled at him. "Hi."

"Hi," he smiled back. This was good. This was more like them. "Sleepy?" She nodded. "Me too." He got to his feet and offered her a hand. He helped her up and guided her back to his bedroom. They lay down in the bed, facing each other but not touching.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier," he said. "I didn't mean it. I was scared and confused."

"What do you have to be scared about?" she asked.

"Losing you," he admitted. "What happened yesterday scared me. You really won't tell me what's happening?"

"I can't," she whispered. "I'm sorry. There's a lot that I'm not saying apparently."

"Meaning what?"

"I'm sorry I can't say what I think you want me to say. I don't want to just assume this time in case I'm misreading, but...I can't say that."

"Why not?"

"I'm not great with that word."

"You're good with all words. You know so many of them. This one is so small compared to some of the other words you know."

"That doesn't make it easier to say. It's more complicated for me. I know how this story goes. If we say that or even think it, that's when the bad thing will happen. The thing that will end us."

"That's very superstitious coming from an atheist."

"It's how it is. Name the thing then it gets taken away."

"It's just good to hear how someone feels about you."

"But does it need saying? I mean words can lie. If someone cares about you, they'll show it. Try paying more attention to actions than words."

He considered this. "But what if you act differently all the time? That's sort of the problem. I mean, you say you don't want me to go out there by myself just in case it's dangerous, then you sent me out alone today. I sort of thought, maybe, you were still upset with me. That you didn't even want to be around me after that fight we had and were glad of the excuse to get rid of me."

She shook her head. "No. No, that wasn't it at all. I just needed time to think, that's all. I mean, primarily it's that I really don't want to be a nun, but also I needed a minute. But I don't want you to go. That's what I'm saying in way too many words. I want you to stay. With me. I don't know what this is because I've never had anything like this before. It's new. I don't know what to make of it. I don't want to just open my mouth and say things in the heat of the moment, you know? I'd rather just know. Without any circumstances or doubt. Zero pressure. I'd like to just know. But I don't. I'm sorry. But I will tell you that when I'm with you I feel the best I've ever felt. I don't want it to stop. That's why I can't tell you about my past. If I think about who I was...I can't go back to that. Do you understand? There are some things you can't take back."

"I understand."

"But you're still scared."

"If you want to know the truth, you make me crazy. I didn't mean that, it's not...your fault. I was going off the deep end before we met. I just want you so much that it consumes me. Thinking about going on with my life without you...But even with you in my life, it's like...I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, looking over, and wanting so badly to just lose myself."

"So why don't we lose ourselves, then? What's so bad about that?"

"You don't think that maybe we're not meant to want anything that badly? Maybe that way lies madness."

"Madness is a part of us. Better this kind than what we could have."

"What kind is that?"

"We could go back to being lonely. We shouldn't be alone. We're all we have." 

...

Things were rapidly going back to normal between them. They were able to joke with each other with almost the same ease they had before, but they weren't really as physical with each other. The Doctor would return from a day at the school and Ginger would have the replicator cook up a meal. It became rather routine.

"It's just hitting a brick wall with me," he said to Ginger one night. "The girls don't trust me, and I can't for the life of me find what's really happening here. I gather there is some sort of strict punishment for misdemeanors, but I never seem to be around when it happens."

"Again I say, ominous," Ginger replied. "I don't like the sound of that one bit. But that's not entirely unexpected. That the girls don't trust you, I mean."

"Why?"

"Because I wouldn't at that age. An adult man comes poking around asking awkward questions, I'd run the other way."

"So...maybe you should give it a try, then. If I can't make it work, then maybe you can have better luck."

"Oh no way," Ginger shook her head. "I've already told you, no habit for me."

"But this could be important," he insisted. "And, no, I don't have a thing for nuns. I don't really like authority figures with strict rules, it's not really appealing. But I've been thinking I need your perspective on this one. And besides." He reached out to hold her at arm's length with what he was sure was a charming smile. "We've tried all these games before, but there's one we haven't tried yet that I think you might really be into."

"What's that?" she asked, suspiciously.

"Blasphemy."

She thought about it before groaning as she acquiesced. "You know me too well," she grinned.

"You can't resist a little blasphemy."

"That I can't," she agreed. "Look at you...Leading me into temptation." She kissed him. "I'm going to regret this, I just know it..."

...

"This outfit is terribly uncomfortable," Ginger complained as they walked up to the front gates.

"I've seen you wear corsets laced up all the way without complaining once," the Doctor reminded her.

"Yeah but I'm willing to risk being uncomfortable on the outside as long as I'm not uncomfortable on the inside," she said. "Since I'm both right now, I hate it. Who am I supposed to be again?"

"Sister Mary Katherine," he said.

That's when she got the joke. "Gallagher?"

He chuckled. "I thought you'd get a kick out of that."

"I'd rather make out with a tree than wear this stupid thing," she complained again. "But does that mean I can be Irish?"

"Mary Katherine Gallagher wasn't Irish."

"But the name Gallagher is. So can I? I'm sensing an accent opportunity."

"If it makes you more comfortable. Anyway, I've got you in as the history teacher." They entered the school grounds. "Alright, what you need to know is that this isn't an all girls school. It takes in children from backgrounds where they've been getting into the most trouble with the aim of-"

"Turning them into robots?" she said, bitterly. "I know the type."

"Anyway," the Doctor said, thinking now was not the time to express concern at her tone. "There are three dormitories - boys to the left, girls to the right, and teachers sleep in the back building. The building in the center is the main school building and church."

Ginger looked around at the kids heading to their classes. "See, that's another thing I don't get," she said. "The weird thing men have for the Catholic school uniform. It's weird to fixate on literal kids like that. Creeps me out."

...

Ginger was immediately unpopular with the other staff members, but her pupils were warming up to her. She talked with an Irish accent, but wasn't the kind of no-nonsense nun they were used to. She wouldn't suffer fools, but she was more willing to give you a witty comment back instead of assigning punishment. And she encouraged questions and free thinking. She also didn't assign tests or homework - giving everyone an A as long as they weren't disruptive.

The only kid who didn't much like her was Jill. Jill, Ginger would soon learn, was rather strict about her religious principles. She sounded at times like maybe her faith was shaky, but it scared her too much so she refused to listen to differing opinions. Again, Ginger knew the type.

There was something strange that she kept running into - a name that she kept hearing whispers of but could find no information when pressed. "Jane."

During dinner that night, the Doctor and Ginger arranged to meet up to report what they'd found out.

They met in the confessional, deciding that would be the best place to fulfill the Doctor's promise of "Blasphemy". They began kissing almost immediately, the Doctor removing her wimple and staring at her long red hair that now just barely grazed her shoulders.

"That's better, isn't it?" he said. "Now you're much more like you."

"Never stopped." She reached under her habit to show him that she was still wearing Candy. "It's not a cross, it's the only thing that keeps me tied to who I want to be."

He felt a rush of affection for her and began kissing her again, letting her press him up against the walls of the confession booth. He reached under her habit and she straddled him as she'd done countless times before...and then they just stopped.

"You alright?" the Doctor asked, picking up on the moment of hesitation.

"Yeah, you?" she asked.

"Good, good...But this..."

"Isn't right," she sighed, sliding off him.

"You picked up on that too?" he said.

"The mood just isn't right. And now it's too cramped in here...let me just jump into the other side of the confessional."

She exited his stall and settled opposite him. "Better?" he asked.

"No, now I feel like I'm too far away," she said. "But it still wasn't right. You felt it too. I wanna be all punk rock and do blasphemy but like...That felt weird for some reason. Like very not us."

"I agree," he said.

"But that's my brand, isn't it? I should've wanted to sin...and sin again..."

"Maybe it's not the right brand of blasphemy," he said. "Maybe when this is all over and we can be ourselves again, I'll take to you a Pretty Reckless show and we'll do blasphemy your way."

She smiled and leaned her cheek against the barrier that separated them. "I _really _like the sound of that."

A short pause. "Is there anything else you'd like to confess while we're here?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No. Well, yes. I dunno." She sighed. "You said I make you crazy? I think you make me more sane."

"You think so?"

She nodded. "Maybe. I feel better when you're around. Like I'm the person I always wished I could be. Maybe the person I'd be if all those things hadn't happened. If _I _hadn't happened to them..." She looked around at the cramped confessional. "Interesting place to think about how one could make the argument that we're getting punished for sin."

"Oh?" This wasn't a usual thing for her to consider, so he found himself interested.

"I mean obviously I've sinned worse than this," she said. "But you think about how three times now our special variety of sin has ended with something bad happening? I know it's irrational, but that's why I haven't been able to in these last few weeks. Not exactly because I believe we're being punished, just...Some superstitious bone in my body doesn't think I should be happy. That something bad will happen. Maybe if we hadn't been so distracted, we could've kept the peace on that little planet. Maybe if we hadn't been so distracted, we wouldn't've gotten abducted to that satellite. Maybe if I hadn't distracted you, we would've been able to stop those aliens from getting killed. And if we couldn't, maybe we at least could've found the person responsible. Some part of me thinks this is a pattern."

He considered this for a moment. "But you know those are only three events. We've been together a lot more times without anything bad happening. But I do wonder about that time in the satellite. That was a brilliant idea you had to prove that they wouldn't let the air run out. But at the same time...This isn't an accusation, it's just...I worry. That you don't always fully understand the concept of consequences. And I knew that about you, that you just did things without worrying about what might happen to you. But things that you do make me worry that the reality of any given situation doesn't quite sink in sometimes. And I go along with it. Because when you want something, I want it too. And that's too much to say no to."

She considered this. "I don't want this to go away. It's like...That No Doubt song. 'Don't let it go away. This feeling has got to stay.' You know? I love..." He held his breath. "All of this. Not this Catholic school, obviously, I just mean this life. That's what makes me feel more sane. Being with you. Living this life. I couldn't give up a bit of it. I don't think I realized how crazy linear time was making me til I got out of it. Of course, that wasn't the only thing making me crazy..."

There was a small pause. "We should go. People will notice we're gone soon."

"I want you to know me too," she said, softly. "But not as who I was. I want you to know me as who I'll be."

"I understand. You're not that person anymore. But don't ever think I wouldn't still..." The word was still too big for her. "Care about you if you ever wanted me to know."

She smiled and put her hand against the barrier between them. "You're the only one who gets me. What a coincidence that we met."

He put his hand to the barrier so their fingers were barely touching. "Never believed in coincidences before," he mused.

...

A few days after Ginger's arrival, a young girl by the name of Hope was wheeled out in a hospital stretcher after dinner. When Ginger got outraged and tried to press to see what was going on, she was met with disapproval and silence. There was never an answer given as to what happened to her, but they were told she'd become ill and passed away later that evening. Ginger tried to find out what happened to the body, but they were very efficient. It was destroyed before an autopsy could be performed.

...

Another two weeks went by, while little by little Ginger and the Doctor managed to convince most of the girls that they were on their side. But it was still slow going, and Ginger was feeling more and more diminished by the day. Truth be told, the Doctor worried about her in this role. There was something very worrying about how distant being in a place of religion was making her.

"I don't like that Rathbone guy," she said one day as they were taking a walk about the town to get some air. "I get the worst vibes off him."

"Maybe you don't like authority figures?" the Doctor posited.

"You don't get the same bad feeling?" she pressed.

"No, no, I do," he admitted.

"I just feel like there's something else going on," Ginger said, frustrated. "They're warming up, but not opening up. I'm still an adult authority figure - a nun, at that. What can we do to get them to trust us?"

Just then the Doctor got a call on the cellphone that Alex had given him. He couldn't very well whip out his phone in front of everyone in 1972, so he quickly ran to the TARDIS to answer it. He looked at the caller id and picked up just as it was about to go to voicemail.

"Alex," he said. "Sorry, was in the middle of something."

"You got a minute?" Alex asked, sounding a bit anxious. The Doctor knew she didn't like talking on the phone and wasn't comfortable asking for attention. He warmed to her instantly.

"Yeah, for you, of course," he said. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine," she said. "A little bored. Wondered if you needed help with anything."

"Who's that?" Ginger asked, having fallen a little behind him in his haste to answer the phone so she hadn't heard him when he'd answered it.

"Just Alex," the Doctor explained. "She's wondering if we needed any help."

"Oooh gimme, gimme." Ginger beckoned for the phone and he handed it over. "Hey, kid, how's it hanging?"

"Bit boring, actually," Alex said. "I'd appreciate your help livening things up."

"Yeah, well, we're a lively bunch," Ginger said. "It's actually funny you should call, you're the answer to a problem we're having. You in for some undercover work?"

"What would I have to do?"

Ginger chuckled. "You're not gonna like this, but as the great Velma Kelly once said..." She sang this next part. "I can't do it alone."

...

They told her the story, keeping it PG and editing out bits they felt she didn't need to know about.

"So obviously, my thinking is that you're the answer to our problem," Ginger said. "You go undercover as one of the kids, infiltrate a bit."

"Yeah, could do," she said. "Happy to, actually, if it'll help."

"It will," the Doctor said.

"So where's the part that I won't like?" she asked.

"You have to wear a Catholic school uniform," Ginger said.

"Oh you can keep _that_," Alex shouted, scandalized. "No way! No way am I wearing one of those!"

"We all have our cross to bear," Ginger said.

"But...but...you _know _how weird boys get about the Catholic school uniform! It's gross!"

"That's what I said!" Ginger replied.

"If any of those boys so much as looks at me, I'll fight 'em, I swear I will!"

"Good, since your character would be an orphan in trouble for starting too many fights," Ginger said. "Use that."

...

"We've just got to get you through the entrance interview," the Doctor told Alex. "After that it's smooth sailing. Hopefully."

"If I'd known my assignment involved going to classes and studying," Alex replied. "I would've just stayed home. You know I'm probably not going to be any good on this one - people don't typically get all chummy with me."

"You'll be fine," he assured her. "Now I've got to go in first, but you can stay out here with Ginger until he's ready to see you." He went in the room, leaving them alone.

"You alright?" Alex asked, zeroing in on Ginger's obvious discomfort. "How are you holding up with this one? I know you hate Catholics."

She laughed. "I don't hate Catholics. Well, I mean, maybe a bit. No more than any other religion, though. Alright, maybe more than some...But honestly, my problem isn't with individuals with religion, typically. It's about the institutions and the people who profit from them."

"And you're alright with this?"

Ginger looked as if she was about to say something, but then the door was opened by a tall, dark-haired man. Alex swallowed hard, fighting back the sudden urge to shiver.

"You must be Alex," the man said. "We're ready to see you now." He turned away and began walking back towards his desk.

Ginger began moving forward but Alex put out a hand to tightly grip her arm.

"What is it?" Ginger whispered.

"Got a bad feeling," Alex whispered back.

"You too, then?" Ginger said.

...

"I hope you realize, Alex," Father Rathbone said. "That this is your last chance. You get into too much trouble here or refuse to follow rules or prove to be a corrupting influence in any way, then you're out. Regardless of whether you know Counselor Smith."

Alex had no doubt that he meant what he was saying. "I understand," she said.

...

Alex went to classes and tried to get to know the other girls, but she was very much an outsider. Through dinner time she was unable to make friends who wanted to say much of anything. But one thing she kept hearing were derisive whispers about someone named Jane, who Alex hadn't been able to get an identity for. Alex thought the kids seemed fairly terrified of the adults - especially as none of them stepped even a bit out of line. They didn't act like teens at all.

Alex was put in a room with Jill and a 13 year old brunette named Irena. Alex was getting ready for bed when the two of them returned from the bathroom talking in hushed whispers. It looked as if Irena had been crying.

"Everything alright?" she asked them.

"Fine," Jill said. "None of your business anyway."

"Fair enough," Alex said.

...

Alex pretended to be going to sleep, but less than an hour after lights out she was getting ready to sneak out and look for clues. She pulled a robe around herself and turned around to see that Jill was standing right behind her.

"You don't want to do that," Jill said.

"Do what?" Alex asked, heart racing.

"Sneak out," Jill replied. "Poke your nose where it doesn't belong. It's your first night, so I understand you want to act out. But this isn't the place."

"Why?" she asked, breathlessly. "What'll they do if they catch me?"

"Believe me that you don't want to find out."

"Jill, what's happening here?"

...

Ginger was poking around, unable to sleep as usual. She was wearing a long nightgown and hadn't bothered to put her habit back on. This was nighttime, she could be free.

She was poking around down by the music room when she heard a few piano notes from a familiar song. She learned against the door frame and smiled at the Doctor.

"The Astronomer, Doctor?" she teased. "This is a place of worship."

"I thought I heard you poking around," he grinned. "Thought I'd lure you in with one of your favorites. Want to come sit?" He patted the spot next to him on the bench.

"We should be looking for clues," she said.

He changed the song, now to a softer tune that she recognized as "Bad Man" by Vermillion Lies. "You play?" he asked.

She begrudgingly walked closer and sat down next to him. "I tried," she admitted. "I couldn't ever make sense of sheet music. And when I tried lessons, it wasn't...They were trying to teach me church music. I wanted to play jazz. It was a conflict."

"I could teach you," he said. "Here." He took her hands and positioned them, and she felt a warmth run through her. "Hit these keys like this..." He moved her fingers and she recognized it as "Mr Cellophane".

She chuckled. "Alright, Piano Man. That was something, but if you can get me to actually be able to do that on my own then I'll _actually _be impressed..." She looked up at him, and there was that gravity again that always hovered between them. They sat there with shoulders brushing, hands intertwined over the keys and faces only inches apart.

"I've missed you," the Doctor admitted.

"I've been right here," she reminded him.

"But you've not been, not really," he said. "You've been all...nun-like. Which isn't you. This is more like you. I missed this."

She kissed him softly before pulling back and resting her forehead against his with her eyes closed. "You actually like me. No costumes or anything. It's weird."

"You don't need to be anyone except you," he said. "I think you forget that. Our games are fun, but...They're not us, at their core. I'm not here for your character of the moment, I'm here for you."

"I'm just more comfortable not being me. Makes me confident."

"I know, so I let it go on. But it's not necessary. Girl, you've got a million different faces, so why'd you put on that disguise?"

She chuckled and opened her eyes, leaning back. "You've brushed up on your Polly Scattergood."

"Had to, to keep up with you," he admitted. "But I don't think I'll ever be able to listen to...well, you know the one."

She nodded, understanding.

...

"If you're here, then that means nobody cares about what happens to you," Jill said. "So why stir up trouble?"

"Jill?" Irena had woken up and was speaking in a feeble voice. "Jill I don't...I don't feel so good."

Jill looked like she had more to say to Alex, but rushed to Irena's side at once. "You're burning up," she said, taking her temperature on her forehead.

Irena pitched forward and vomited blood.

...

Alex and Jill rushed Irena from the room to get help. Alex was asking questions about what was happening, but Jill wouldn't talk and Irena simply couldn't. They were heading for the teacher's quarters when Alex heard piano music from the music room and rushed them in there. To her relief, she found Ginger and the Doctor.

"Thank God it's you!" she said.

The Doctor and Ginger sprang apart, even though they'd been doing nothing but playing the piano. They rushed to Alex's side as she and Jill helped Irena to the floor.

"We need an ambulance!" Alex said, frantically.

"What's happened?" the Doctor said, giving the girl a preliminary examination.

"I don't know!" Alex panicked. "But _she _does!" She pointed to Jill.

"I don't know anything!" Jill said, defensively.

"She does, I know she does!" Alex said, not knowing how she was so sure but knowing it for a fact.

"She smells like Spearmint," Ginger said softly, forgetting that she was supposed to be using an Irish accent.

"We've got to get her to the hospital," the Doctor said, incorrectly assuming Ginger's reaction was shock.

"She smells like Spearmint," Ginger said, realizing what was going on. "Jill, how long have you known Irena was pregnant?"

"What?" Alex asked, not expecting this.

"She's not-" Jill started.

"Don't lie to me, there isn't time," Ginger said. "These symptoms...The smell...You're _very _lucky I know all my Nirvana trivia, ladies. This is Pennyroyal poisoning. Someone's been drinking Pennyroyal tea which means she's trying to induce abortion which is _very _dangerous. If we don't get her to a hospital now she could die."

"We didn't know what else to do!" Jill cried, actual tears leaping to her eyes. "I thought we'd got the dose right this time-"

"This time?" the Doctor asked, before he understood. "Oh. This is what killed Hope."

Jill nodded. "He told us it would be safe if we did it right, that it would get rid of it. He said if we didn't, then we'd be ruined and defiled - that this didn't count as an abortion because it was God's purification. If we did it right and she was pure it was totally safe."

"And you believed that?" Alex shouted.

"No, not really," she said. "But we were up against a wall."

"Who did this?" the Doctor asked. "It's very important you tell me the truth."

"It's Rathbone," Alex said. "Isn't it? I've got a...Got a bad feeling. He did this to you."

Jill nodded, tears streaming down her face. "And to me too. I only just found out today and...I haven't decided what to do yet. There's either be disgraced or hope the Pennyroyal doesn't kill you...I've thought about going to Jane too. But I wouldn't be able to leave the school for that long without being missed and I don't want people to know."

"There's that name again," the Doctor said. "Jane. Who is she?"

"Not who," Ginger said, suddenly remembering an article she'd read once. "What. Right now Jane might be our only option to help you safely. Do you trust us?"

Jill hesitated before giving in and nodding.

...

Jane was a collective of women in the late 60s and early 70s who were busted by police for providing affordable and easy access to abortion in Chicago while it was still illegal. The Doctor got Irena to a hospital while Ginger took Jill to Jane to get a consultation. The Doctor worried about Ginger - she seemed to be taking this issue rather personally.

"I don't know if I can have this baby," Jill said. "He violated me, destroyed me...He killed hope. And now I've got to have this...thing grow inside of me. But I don't know if I can kill it. It's murder, isn't it?"

"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Ginger said. "But you don't need to feel guilty. This is your decision."

"Lilliana was always stronger than me," she said. "She actually chose to keep hers. But it ruined her life. She's living in a mother and baby home now."

"So she's alive?" Ginger asked. "Good, good, I'm glad. I thought based on how you all talked about her...But we've got to get her out of there. Not just for her sake. If she gives up that baby to the church, I can almost guarantee bad things will happen to it. I've...read things. Granted, they were about Ireland, but I just don't trust the church."

"A nun who doesn't trust the church? You're a bit odd."

Jill decided to get the abortion, and it was a difficult decision.

"You've got to tell someone," Ginger said. "You can't stay there."

"Where else would I go?" she asked. "My parents made it clear there's no way I can come home. And nobody would believe me even if I told them."

"You have witnesses," Ginger said. "Other people have been hurt. Maybe it'll be different for you."

"Different from what?"

Ginger realized she'd slipped up. "Never mind that. But you have to make sure he doesn't do this to anyone else, that he doesn't get away with it. That he gets punished."

Alex jumped in. "You don't have to do anything, Jill. This has been terrible for you. It's not your responsibility to retraumatize yourself by putting this out there."

"No I'll do it," Jill said. "For Hope."

...

Ginger stepped away for a moment to get some air.

"You okay over there?" one of the young women who volunteered said. "You look a little pale."

"It's been an exhausting few weeks," she admitted. "I'll be fine. It's these girls I worry about. Sorry, it's just...It makes me feel a bit sick."

"Sick like how?" When Ginger shrugged, she pressed on. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry, it's just...Would you mind if I gave you a quick checkup? Just to be sure? I'm a nurse."

She chuckled. "Go for it. But I warn you, my biology might freak you out."

The nurse began asking her some questions. "When was the date of your last period?"

Ginger looked up, suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

"I just noticed the way you are with that man you came in with...and I wondered whether you were being safe."

She scoffed. "Of course we're being safe. I insist on it every time...not that it's your business."

"So when did you get your last period?"

...

The school was shut down for an investigation, while the police agreed to keep the girls involved out of the newspapers. Their reputations shouldn't be tarnished by what somebody else did to them. Of course, Ginger maintained that a woman's reputation shouldn't hinge on their sexual status, but she wasn't as loud about it as she'd normally be. Irena was on the mend, and the Doctor thought it was time they were going. Alex hadn't even gotten through 24 hours in this era, and the mystery was done.

Alex came to find Ginger, sitting by herself and staring at the wall.

"You alright in there?" Alex asked her, startling her from whatever thoughts she was having.

"I, uh...I dunno," Ginger said. "This one was tough."

"Feels like it was a bit personal to you," Alex said.

"It was, in a way...still is, in a different way."

"Again, I have to ask...are you alright?"

"I'm just, uh...I'm just worried. About something. Not quite sure what to do."

"Ginger, what's wrong?"

"I'm worried I might be, uh...This is so weird, I never thought I'd be in this situation...I'm, uh, worried I might be pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Alex asked, not expecting this. 

Ginger smiled, going for sheepish but betraying her own anxiety on the matter. "Yeah, uh...guess it's as good a time as any to tell you that I'm sort of, uh, shagging your dad." She tried to joke it off with finger guns and a chuckle, but Alex wasn't fooled at all. "I mean, not that he's your real dad or anything...I don't know why I feel I have to justify this as if you are-"

Alex tried not to betray the wealth of confusing emotions she felt about this. "Oh. That's, well, I mean...How long has this been going on?"

"A bit over a month?" Ginger admitted. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you, but I've been insisting on not talking about it, you know? I didn't want to hear everyone's opinions on it."

"You have to talk to him about it," Alex said. "You have to tell him. He'll understand, he'll help you."

She nodded and got to her feet. "Yeah. Yeah I've got to talk to him. Just got to think for a moment...figure out what to say." She started walking to the door.

"Ginger, can I ask you a question?" Alex asked.

Ginger paused before turning around slowly. "Depends on what it is."

"Are you in love with him? Is that...what this is about?"

She appeared for a moment to be battling with herself before she faked a smile. "What does that even mean, anyway?"

...

"When did we pick you up from, Alex?" the Doctor asked as they got back to the TARDIS.

"March 15th," she said, not looking away from Ginger who couldn't be bothered to make eye contact with anyone.

"The Ides of March!" the Doctor exclaimed, gleefully. "Always a good time, isn't it, Ginger?"

"Hm?" she said, suddenly realizing she was being spoken to. "Oh yeah...yeah, loads of fun."

...

The Doctor didn't immediately start driving the TARDIS away after he dropped Alex off, because he was rather concerned about Ginger's silence.

"You've been quiet," he said.

"I've had things on my mind," she admitted in a way that almost seemed petrified.

"What sort of things?"

"I've been trying to think of what to say."

"About?"

And she just suddenly started crying, alarming him more than ever. "I'm sorry," she said, furiously wiping her eyes. "I just don't know what to do, I don't understand how this happened."

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, coming to her side and wiping her tears himself. "Talk to me."

Her lips trembled. "It had to be one of those last times. I think we forgot to use protection. We weren't careful."

"What?"

"I haven't had a period in over a month and I don't understand...Like, we're careful, we're always careful! Except those last two times. I didn't think this could happen to me and...I know you used to have a family and I feel so selfish asking you to give this one up, but I can't have this baby! I can't do it! It's my decision, but I can't go through with it, it's not a good idea! I'd be a terrible mother! And I can't in good conscience give a child up to the same system that did this to me! I can't put a kid out there to suffer-"

"Woah woah woah, slow down," he said. "There's no way you're pregnant."

"We've moved on past the denial stage, Doctor-"

"This isn't denial, it's biologically impossible," he said. "You're far too young."

"What do you mean? I've been menstruating since I was 11-"

"As a human," he assured her. "Their biological clocks work much faster than ours because their lifespan is so short. I'm sorry...It didn't even occur to me to explain this to you. I forget you weren't raised on Gallifrey. This is gonna be awkward." He took a deep breath. "Alright. So since Time Lords can change gender between regenerations, our bodies need to conserve energy. Menstruating every month takes up too much energy. We start being, ah, sexually active in our teens just like humans do, but we don't actually, uh, produce reproductive material until around 130 years old. All Time Lords go through the change, having one period for one day then we're able to conceive or produce, uh...Well, anyway. You're too young so you haven't gone through your first change. I went through the second change which was when i was about, oh...700? So neither of us can conceive or impregnate. It's impossible."

"Really?" Ginger asked, not having thought about this at all.

"Absolutely," he said, relieved that she was calming down. "I'm sorry I didn't explain this to you. I genuinely forgot that you lot do that every month instead of just twice in your lifetime."

"I'm glad to be rid of it," she said, with relief. "It always made me so sick every month."

"I'm starting to think everything about being human made you sick."

"But you're sure?"

"About what?"

"That I'm not...that I _can't _be..."

"I know this could be hard to accept," he said. "I'll gladly let you get pregnancy tests and ultrasounds just in case. Even ask the Corsair, she'll back me up."

"I don't think she likes me so much," Ginger said. "And I trust you. You'd never lie to me."

"I'll set you up with a test just to ease your mind," he insisted. "I don't want you to have any lingering doubts."

She sniffled and smiled at him, surprised again that he was so considerate. "So what was that, then? If you knew you couldn't knock me up, then why did we buy so many condoms? Just for the mess?"

"I've gone through the second change so there is no mess," he said. "No, it's just...you asked. And if it made you feel more comfortable, I have no problem with it. Plus I kind of got the impression that you liked our alien condoms."

She chuckled, wiping her eyes. "They're funny." 

He smiled. "Do you want to do the test now?"

Her smile faded. "I think I'll go lie down," she said. "I'm actually a bit tired. Tomorrow, though? I've got, uh, things to be thinking about. I've got to wrap my head around and rationalize a bunch of things right now."

He could sense that she was pulling away from him and thought he knew what it was about. But he couldn't bring himself to talk about it out loud. It was selfish of him, of course, but he didn't want to make things worse. Of course he had a lot to be thinking about as well.

"Definitely," he said. He watched her head back towards her room, wondering when the last time was that she'd slept in her own room. Suddenly he felt peculiarly lonely. "Wait, Ginger?" He was struck by a sudden thought.

She turned around. "Yeah?"

"What day did we drop Alex off in, again?"

"The Ides of March," she said, raising her eyebrows. "Why?"

...

The Doctor entered Sarah Jane's kitchen to find her in there doing some dishes.

"Doctor," she said. "You startled me."

"Sorry about that," he apologized. "Is Alex around?"

"She's gone up already, I can see if she's still awake-"

"That's alright. I was here for you actually."

"What for?"

"Explain to me why I was with Alex all day and she didn't mention even once that her 18th birthday is in 3 days."


	43. Graveyard

**March 15th, 2016**

"We've been calling you for weeks now," Sarah Jane replied to his question. "Jack and I. We've been planning something for Alex and wanted you to be here for it. But you never picked up."

"What?" the Doctor asked, fishing his phone from his pocket. "No you haven't-" He glanced at the missed call list, seeing message after message from Sarah Jane and Jack. "Oh. Sorry about that. Been a bit distracted." He remembered now like a movie reel of memory flashing before his eyes. So many times when he'd been busy with Ginger and had said he'd call them back later. But he never remembered to. That was just life with Ginger, he supposed.

"Well at least you're here now," Sarah Jane said. "You are planning on sticking around, aren't you? She never says, but I know it would mean a lot for us all to be here."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he assured her.

...

**March 16th, 2016**

When Ginger awoke the next morning, it was to the smell of apple pancakes.

"That smells amazing," she said as she entered the kitchen.

"And like a siren song, it calls you from your slumber," the Doctor grinned, flipping the last of them onto a plate. "Knew it would." He looked at her properly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she smiled. "Got my strength back as soon as I stopped being in the presence of so many crucifixes."

He set the plate on the table and sat opposite her as they began eating. "I was a bit worried about you," he admitted. "You haven't been quite yourself lately."

"I was playing a character," she said, absently.

"Yeah but your characters normally still have a bit of you in them."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm a bad actor?"

"No, no!" He realized his mistake. "It just felt like something was off about the whole thing. You know..." He hesitated because he'd tried this before and she always shut down. "You know if there's ever something wrong and you need to talk about it..."

"I can talk to you?" she finished, sarcastically. "Honey, no offense, but that's just not what we _do_."

"Honey?" he teased, momentarily distracted by her word choice.

She rolled her eyes. "Look, the past is the past. We move forward. Let's not dwell."

"Doc?" a voice was calling from outside the room. Ginger and the Doctor exchanged a look and went to investigate.

"Alex," the Doctor said, surprised to see her standing there carrying all her books. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I was just coming to see that everything was alright," she said. "Thought you would've taken off by now."

"Did Sarah Jane not tell you? We're sticking around til after your birthday on Friday."

"Your birthday is on Friday?" asked Ginger, who hadn't known this.

"We're parked back here just for the meantime," the Doctor carried on.

"I wasn't gonna make a big deal of it," Alex said.

"Nonsense, you're turning 18!" the Doctor replied. "It's a big deal! Now, why don't you come back to the kitchen for some apple pancakes?"

"I don't have time," she apologized. "I've gotta be running to school. But that does sound good. Can I take them to go? Oh, also, I think I left my good shoes here when I was changing yesterday. Could you go check?"

"Sure," he said, hopping to it. "Be back in a jiff!"

Alex wasted no time. "So did you talk to him?"

"About what?" Ginger said, still half asleep. "Oh, that. Yeah, it's all good. Turns out, not pregnant. I was just mixed up about how this all works. Got freaked out over nothing, which is sort of my MO."

"Well that's good, isn't it?" she pressed. "You're not going to have some chest burster come out of you. So why does it seem like something else is wrong?"

She hesitated. "Apparently it's impossible for either of us to have biological children at our ages. According to him, I'm too young to have a baby. And he's too old."

"Oh," she said, suddenly understanding Ginger's awkwardness. "Yeah, you guys do have...quite the age difference. I always forget that." She laughed. "Remember that one time you went on a tangent about how weird it is that fictional vampires always hook up with teenagers?"

"Yeah, yeah, rub it in that I'm a hypocrite."

"But you don't think this is the same situation, do you?"

"From what I understand about Gallifrey, I'd still be considered a kid at my age. I'd still be at the Academy. And he's already had grandchildren! Physically I'd appear to be a full-grown human, but...there's a huge age difference here. Super huge. And I'm trying to rationalize it. I mean, if you don't count the Corsair, Doc and I are the only ones of our species left. Doc says that humans mature faster than Gallifreyans, which is why it's not weird to hook up with 20 year old humans. And, see, I was raised up to be a 20 year old human, so maybe I have more human sensibilities-"

"Ginger, you're spiraling. You just...you need to take a breath. If it helps, this situation isn't the same as a teen vampire novel. This probably actually hasn't happened anywhere in history. As much as this whole thing grosses me out to think about, I think it's really up to you what you want it to be. At this point...I'm going to have to say you have to be grownups and decide for yourself what you want to do. Because right now it's too late for anyone else to have an opinion on your relationship."

Ginger made a face. "Oh don't call it a relationship. That's a bit...Well, anyway, at least you're the one who found out first. I can't imagine how much teasing I'd have to take from Jack. I've appreciated the lack of 'tarty stepmum' jokes from you, kid."

"Yeah, well, I didn't think it was the time or place. But I'm saving them in case I ever need them."

They smiled at each other, both appreciating the other's situation as much as they could.

"So...18?" asked Ginger.

"Yeah," Alex said, shuffling uncomfortably. "Didn't want to make a thing of it."

"Yeah I get that."

"Kinda weird, though. I mean in two days I'll get to do anything I want."

"You know you could've up until this point. I mean you were kinda a loose foster kid at 16. That's legal age of emancipation."

"Yeah, I looked into it. Decided it wasn't for me."

"So what is it that you want to do?"

She shrugged. "Dunno. What did you do when you were 18?"

Ginger's mind briefly worked to answer the question before she put a firm stop to it. "Nothing much. I did move to Scotland that year, though. Big deal for me."

Alex knew that she'd touched on something that Ginger didn't want to discuss, but as always she was unsure how exactly she knew that. She put it from her mind.

"You sure you left your shoes in here?" asked the Doctor, reappearing suddenly. "I've looked all around the costume room and there's nothing. Also looked in the control room."

"Oh, you know what?" Alex said, slapping her forehead. "I might've left them in the living room last night. Don't worry about it."

...

"We really don't have to go through all this," Ginger said, sitting on a cot in the infirmary after Alex had left for school.

"I say that we do," the Doctor replied, readying an ultrasound machine. "Not for my sake, but for yours. I know that you don't trust anyone, and you said that you trust me. I want to prove to you that I'm worthy of that trust."

She felt a curious rush of emotions at those words and pulled him into a hug.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"You always show me that you care about me," she said. "I appreciate it, is all."

He ran a few tests just to prove to Ginger once and for all that she wasn't pregnant. He'd never thought she was because he knew Time Lord biology. She'd been sure she wasn't since he told her, because she knew he wouldn't lie to her. But he was most at ease when he knew that she was at ease, and she liked that he cared enough about her to try to put her at ease. They were just funny like that.

...

The Doctor and Ginger were quite bored having to spend time on Earth, but Ginger agreed with him that it was best if they stuck around til after Alex's birthday. Didn't want to accidentally miss it and let her down. Alex and Sky were at school all day, so there weren't many options about what to do.

"Remember when I said that linear time drives me crazy?" Ginger complained after only a few hours of this. "Yeah, it really really does."

"Only because you have nothing to do," the Doctor said.

"I mean, is this how time normally passes?" she asked, a note of frustration hanging in her voice. "Really slowly and in the right order?"

He bit back a smile. "How did you pass the time when you had nothing to do on Earth?"

She thought about it. "Mostly Netflix."

"There's a good start, then."

He had to admit that he was also a bit bored, but he knew if he said it out loud then they'd go off somewhere and get distracted again. He had to wonder if they weren't always too distracted.

He hopped across the garden to see Sarah Jane while Ginger was occupied watching Youtube videos.

"I've never seen you so still," Sarah Jane said, smiling at him as they sat at her kitchen table. "It must drive you mad."

"Oh absolutely," he admitted. "But I'm not going to risk it. You know I always mean to come back..."

"Yeah," she said softly. "So where's Ginger? Alex tells me she's still traveling with you. And that you might have some big news?"

He sat bolt upright. Ginger had told him that Alex had figured out what was going on with them. "What did she tell you? Because, really, it's not what it looks like at all-"

Sarah Jane looked at him in that steady and scrutinizing way that only someone who has known someone for a very long time can. "What does it look like? All she told me is that Ginger's Gallifreyan. Went through a Chameleon Circuit."

"...Oh." There was the return of his old friend mortification. He'd forgotten there was anybody left who hadn't known. "Yeah, she is."

"And that's good, isn't it?" Sarah Jane pressed. "Having someone like you around again?"

He smiled. "Yeah, it is. It's very good."

"I'm glad you have someone." She let the words hang in the air, knowing that he'd pick up her meaning. "Someone who can keep up with you, I mean."

"You could always keep up with me, Sarah Jane."

She smiled. "For a while. Not anymore, though."

He had a question, one he'd wanted to ask for a while but could never bring himself to. "Are you alright, Sarah?"

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"I've asked you several times to come traveling with us. Jack does. You always have a good excuse."

"Well if the excuse is so good, why would you ask?"

"I understand that you have your own life now, Sarah Jane, and that this isn't part of it anymore. I only wondered..."

"I'm just a bit tired, Doctor. I can't do the kind of things I could when I was younger."

"But if it was something more, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

When she smiled again it was softer. "If there was anything you needed to know, I'd tell you."

...

Jack came over to visit Alex after school and was surprised to find the TARDIS parked in the garden. He had no way of knowing that the Doctor was inside the house with Alex, so he decided to go find his friends in the TARDIS.

The control room was empty and silent when he entered it, but he could hear sounds from further in. He followed them and found Ginger sitting in the TARDIS watching Youtube videos.

"Are you gonna stand there all day or are you coming in?" asked Ginger without turning around.

"Still debating," said Jack.

Ginger paused the video and turned around, her eyes lighting up as she braced herself by the elbows on the top of the sofa. "Jack! Long time, no see!"

"I take it was longer for you than it was for me?" asked Jack.

"Definitely," she replied. "Coming in?"

"Only if we promise to watch something more interesting."

"You've got a deal."

Jack hopped over the top of the sofa and sat next to her. They began debating what they should watch.

"What about Crazy Ex-Girlfriend?" Jack offered. "You always said you'd get around to it."

...

The Doctor returned to the TARDIS some time later.

He poked his head into the room. "Sarah Jane wants to know..." He realized that Ginger wasn't alone. "Oh. Jack's here?"

"Uh-huh," Ginger said. "Did Sarah Jane want something?"

"Right, right," said the Doctor. "She wants to know if you're coming to dinner, but you never turn down free food."

"Unless it's rubbish," Ginger said. "But she really invited me? After...last time?"

"I think Sarah Jane's willing to give you another chance because of...circumstances."

"Oh?" asked Ginger. "We have...circumstances now?"

"It's possible," he replied. "Can we count you in too, Jack?"

"I phoned ahead," Jack said, looking at them both with some amusement. "She knew I was coming over."

"Right," the Doctor said, turning back to Ginger. "I've filled her in on your dietary requirements. No whole nuts, no ketchup, no ground meat, etc."

"Right," Ginger said. "Thanks."

"I'll just...go make sure she knows about some of the other things I forgot that you hate, shall I? She's got to make a trip to the shops before she can even _think _about cooking."

"That's best, I think."

The Doctor nodded and disappeared again.

"He knows you so well," Jack said, the beginnings of a teasing grin forming.

She faced the television again but looked awkwardly toward her knees as her posture closed off slightly. "Uh-huh, I guess we've gotten to know each other these past few months."

"Is that how long you've been sleeping together?" She froze like a wide-eyed deer in the headlights, then looked at him. His grin widened. "Oh come on. It's so obvious from the way you two were with each other."

"From how he knew the kinds of food I hate?" she asked, furiously.

"No, from the way you both avoided looking directly at each other, the way you were speaking so slowly about 'circumstances' and picking your words carefully, the way you relaxed when you heard his voice, the last little furtive looks-"

"I do not do furtive looks," Ginger protested. "You talk about me like I'm in a 19th century novel!"

"Might as well be with that level of covert communication," Jack replied. "Oh come on, don't be so torn up about it. So many have tried and failed to get to where you are."

"We're not anywhere," Ginger said.

"You don't have to pretend-"

"No, really, we're not," she insisted. "At least not lately. We've gone through some things and it's kind of cooled things down a bit."

He could see that she was serious. "Anything you need to talk about?"

She shook her head. "No, not really. Can we watch more TV?"

"Sure," he said. "I'll drop it. I just want to make sure you're being safe."

"Jack, ew-"

"I don't mean like that. I just mean...Are you okay? I know how you've always been about these things. And it's a big change in a small amount of time. I want to make sure you're taking care of yourself."

"Yeah," she replied. "Yeah, honestly, everything's great."

"Just want to make sure you're not being pushed into things-"

"Like anyone can push me into anything," she replied. "If you must know, I made the first move. But that's all I'll say about it, I don't want to talk about it any more."

...

The Doctor returned just as they were starting up the first episode and decided to watch it with them. Jack noted the way they sat next to each other without touching, but still somehow seemed to gravitate toward each other. 

"This is who you keep comparing me to?" asked Ginger, pointing to the screen. "Because...fair."

"You're a bit more - as Alex would say - emo than Rebecca," teased Jack. "But basically the same in a lot of ways." He nodded at the Doctor. "_He's _Greg."

"Oi!" the Doctor protested. 

"Hey!" Ginger chuckled. "Doc's not cool enough to be Greg."

"Are you implying that Greg is cool?" asked Jack.

"Fair point."

...

Ginger still didn't like sleeping alone in her own bed, but she felt like they both needed their space. She'd almost forgotten how bad the nightmares could get when he wasn't around. 

She'd forgotten how hard it was for her to fall asleep in linear time. That's what she blamed it on, at least. She'd found that with her current life-style of adventuring, she could exhaust herself to the point of falling asleep quickly. But now she was in the position where she knew she'd have to listen to music to fall asleep. Problem was, she'd left her iPod in the Doctor's room.

"Hey, TARDIS?" she said, quietly. "Play me some music? Anything you think I need to hear."

The TARDIS complied.

_"It's crazy when_

_The thing you love the most is the detriment_

_Let that sink in_  
_You can think again_  
_When the hand you wanna hold is a weapon and_  
_You're nothin' but skin_

_Oh, 'cause I keep diggin' myself down deeper_  
_I won't stop 'til I get where you are_  
_I keep running, I keep running, I keep running_

_They say I may be making a mistake_  
_I would've followed all the way, no matter how far_  
_I know when you go down all your darkest roads_  
_I would've followed all the way to the graveyard..."_

"Okay, ouch," Ginger whispered.

_You want me to play something else? _the TARDIS asked.

"No, no," Ginger said softly. "I'm vibing with this."

...

**March 17th, 2016**

They watched more Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and managed to get through almost all of season 1. Sarah Jane finally called them in for dinner.

"Ginger's come a remarkably long way," Sarah Jane remarked to the Doctor, watching through a doorway as she played with K-9. "After everything that happened last winter, I never thought I'd see the day when that girl smiled."

"She's doing a lot better," the Doctor said. "She's grown a lot. She makes an effort."

"She's still not quite right though," Sarah Jane said. "It's not a criticism. Alex isn't always quite right either. It's their childhoods, I expect. They just need a bit more care. They're both lucky to have you in their lives, because you're not quite right too."

Ginger came into the room. "I've been thinking we should do something for Alex's birthday tomorrow," she said. 

"We are," said Sarah Jane. "We're seeing a movie and going out to lunch."

"That's it?" she asked. "I mean, that's great, sure, that works. You should do that. But maybe Doc and Jack and I can take her after?"

"What did you have in mind?" asked the Doctor.

"It's a surprise," Ginger said. "Call it a gay rite of passage. I'll work out the details with Jack." She dashed away.

"Should I be worried about that?" Sarah Jane asked, with some amusement.

"Nah," the Doctor said. "Not much, anyway."

...

Ginger and Jack disappeared directly after dinner, and the Doctor finally managed to find time to go find them. He could hear singing when he opened the door and followed it to the holodeck.

Ginger was sitting on the floor in front of a karaoke machine, singing into the tinny microphone while Jack calibrated it. She was performing "Sing" by the Dresden Dolls and looked up just as the Doctor came in the room.

She grinned. "Calls you in like a siren song, doesn't it? Knew it would."

"Is this the surprise?" He asked.

Ginger and Jack exchanged a look and repressed laughter. "Part of it," said Ginger.

"I think this is good," Jack said. "Wanna watch more episodes now? Maybe we can get through to the next season..."

They transformed the room back into a living room and got settled to watch again when Alex showed up.

"Hey, Sarah Jane said I could stay up late since I'm not going to school tomorrow. Can I hang with you?"

"Sure," Ginger said. "But we're watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend so if you haven't seen season one you're gonna be lost."

"I can handle it," said Alex.

...

They decided to end the night after the episode where Greg leaves. Ginger found it too sad.

"I should take Alex back to the house," said the Doctor. She'd fallen asleep a few hours earlier. He shook her awake. "C'mon, kiddo. Let's get you to bed." 

"'M not even sleepy though," Alex protested even as she let the Doctor help her to her feet. She gave a sort of half-salute to the others. "'Night..."

The Doctor took her back up to the house and made sure she was asleep before he left. He found Cupid waiting for him just outside.

"Heard you were in town," Cupid said. "Need to talk?"

At the same time, Ginger and Jack were talking inside the silent TARDIS.

"He'd make a good dad," Jack said. "He's just so good with Alex."

Ginger felt a pang of guilt. "Mhm."

Jack caught onto this. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I never want to talk, you know that."

"Yeah but there's something bothering you. Might be good to get it off your chest. Does it have to do with why things have cooled down between you two?"

"...Sorta." She sighed. "Look, a lot of things just happened at once. I had this pregnancy scare that turned out to be nothing and I can sort of feel that things are close to ending and I don't know what to do. I mean he's so much older than me. That really should bother me. It would bother me if Alex was dating someone that much older."

"But he makes you happy," Jack said. "Anyone can see that you love each other."

"Oh that's a big word..." she said, dismissively.

The Doctor and Cupid sat on the low garden wall.

"It's been a while," Cupid said, as an ice breaker. "I can only guess what you two have been up to..."

"I expect you're here to give me a talking to," the Doctor said. "You pushed us together and now you're here to tell us all the reasons why we're wrong. And I might agree with you."

"Would you?"

"She's so young," the Doctor said. "And she's not stable. Sometimes I worry that she doesn't fully understand things."

Cupid raised an eyebrow. "You haven't said that to her, have you? She'd find that so patronizing."

"But it's true, isn't it? She's fractured somehow. I want to help her, but I worry I might be making her worse. Or maybe she's making me worse. But we feel better when we're together, so that counts?"

"What is it specifically that has you so worried about her?"

The Doctor struggled to put his fear into words. "I try to tell her about Gallifrey. About my part in what happened. But she doesn't want to hear about it. The little she does know about how I acted in the war, she isn't processing. At least I don't think she is. She's such a bleeding heart, you know. She's very anti-war. She should be angry and want to know every detail. But she forgave me and doesn't want to talk about it. Sometimes I worry that..."

"Yes?" Cupid prompted.

"Sometimes I worry that she likes it this way. That she likes us being the only two. That she wants me all to herself and is glad that we're alone with only each other."

Cupid looked at him sadly. "She loves you terribly."

"Does she? She won't even say it."

"Of course not. She knows so many words in so many languages but she's not familiar with that one. It doesn't make sense to her. You've got to stop listening for that one word and listen to all the words she says when she's avoiding it. And look at her actions, her body language, her micro-expressions. Those will tell you plainly because she was never any good at faking those."

He laughed dryly. "You saying she's a bad actor?"

"No, she's amazing," he grinned. "But she could never fake love. When she played Viola in Twelfth Night, she did wonderfully in all aspects except that she got stiff and awkward when it came to pretend affection. It didn't make sense to her. As hard as she tried, she couldn't fake it. You've got to realize that Ginger has run from everyone her entire life, but now she clings so tightly to you. That has to mean something. I know you want to say it out loud because of what happened with Rose, but she's telling you the only way she knows how."

"How do you know about Rose?" He asked.

"My dear boy," he said. "I know you both better than you know yourselves."

"The way you talk about Ginger. It's like you know her."

"I have for a very long time," Cupid admitted. "I meant what I said. She loves you terribly. And I mean that from the root word. She loves you so much that it's frightening. And you love her the same. You'll have such trouble letting go of each other."

"Letting go?" The Doctor repeated. "Why would we do that?"

He smiled ruefully. "Because it's nearly time. So instead of worrying about the morality of what you're doing, just know that this is all you get. This is all she gets. Make her happy, because there will be nothing else for her."

Cupid's words sat like a cold stone in his stomach. "What happens to her?"

"You can't let yourself worry about that."

"You care about her so much. It's the only reason I almost trust you. But the way you talk about her...Who are you? To her, I mean. Because sometimes I wonder..."

"Wonder what?"

"She has this strange effect on me that I can't explain. Nobody else has ever made me like this. No matter what's happening, she can get me started. My rational brain loses out to whatever she wants. I can't resist. It makes me wonder if maybe she doesn't have unusually high levels of pheromones..." he watched Cupid closely for a reaction. "Which would then make me wonder where she gets that from..."

Cupid's expression was unreadable but warm. "She doesn't. You love her. She's your star mate. Her pheromones don't even factor in. But am I to understand that after all this delay, you've finally given in to your base instincts?"

"You really don't have to say it like that." 

"Oh but it's fun to make you squirm."

"She always says that too."

"I bet," Cupid teased. "So how was it? I don't really want to know, but people always seem to want to tell me." 

The Doctor bristled. "That's really between her and me. She's a very private person."

Meanwhile, in the TARDIS, Ginger and Jack were lying side by side on the floor.

"So how is he?" Jack asked. "Gotta admit, I always wondered if he's any good."

"How dare you?" Ginger laughed, punching him in the arm. "That is SUCH a personal question." She sat up to look at him. "But okay, if you really want to know, he's good. Really REALLY good. Like you always hear about your first time being bad, but he literally never disappoints. Stamina and a WORK ETHIC." She flopped back on the floor. "Never thought I could appreciate that. The man doesn't stop til you're satisfied."

"Makes you a lucky woman," Jack grinned.

"Oh I know," she nodded. "Truth is, though, that none of it would work at all if he wasn't so, I dunno, sweet? Like he's very very caring? He's always asking me if I'm okay, which is not something I'm used to being asked. He does this in all situations, but the point is that he's always ready at a moment's notice to stop whatever is happening if I'm not alright. It's kinda wild."

"He's a good guy," said Jack.

"The only problem is that he always wants to get me to talk about the past," Ginger said. "I don't want him to know where I came from. It's easier with him not knowing."

MEANWHILE, outside:

Cupid hopped off the garden wall. "Well I'd best be going," he said. "But I'll be around."

"Wait you didn't answer my question," the Doctor said, hoping down as well. "Who are you?"

He smiled mysteriously. "What is it with you and wanting to know everyone's backstory? You never used to care so much."

"Who are you to her?" He pressed.

He smiled ruefully. "Not what she deserves." He snapped his fingers and was gone.

...

Alex was set to stay home from school the next day, because everyone assured her they had a day planned for her. With that being said, she didn't end up waking up until 10:30 that morning.

She came downstairs to find chocolate chip waffles waiting for her, and her Bannerman Road family all waiting for her in the kitchen.

"Good morning, birthday girl!" Sarah Jane smiled at her. "My, look at you! All grown up already!"

"She said the same thing when I turned 18," Luke said. "Though, to be fair, I was born as a teenager so I was only a few years old."

There was a knock at the door and two people let themselves in.

"Clyde! Rani!" Alex exclaimed in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"Came over special for your birthday, didn't we?" Clyde said. "Wouldn't miss Alex's big day."

...

Ginger was up earlier than usual the following morning. She showered and changed into some jeans and an old t-shirt.

"Hey," she said, ruffling her still-wet hair as she entered the kitchen.

"Hey yourself," the Doctor said.

"So listen," Ginger said. "I've been thinking about things and trying to rationalize them to myself but...Maybe it's stupid of me to try to rationalize when I've never been, y'know, rational. So can I show you something?"

He couldn't begin to figure out what she's want to show him. "Yeah. 'Course."

She led him to the holodeck, where the karaoke machine was ready for them.

"Gonna sing to me, my angel of music?" He asked.

"Yeah, kinda?" She admitted. She'd never been so nervous about a performance in her life. "It's the only way I know how to put this into words." She picked up the microphone and switched the machine on. "Sorry, forgot to warm up..."

_"Don't get me wrong_

_If I'm looking kind of dazzled_

_I see neon lights_

_Whenever you walk by_

_Don't get me wrong_  
_If you say, "hello", and I take a ride_  
_Upon a sea where the mystic moon_  
_Is playing havoc with the tide_  
_Don't get me wrong_

_Don't get me wrong_  
_If I'm acting so distracted_  
_I'm thinking about the fireworks_  
_That go off when you smile_

_Don't get me wrong_  
_If I split like light refracted_  
_I'm only off to wander_  
_Across a moonlit mile..."_

The song ended and Ginger turned off the machine. He understood it now. She couldn't've told him any clearer than that.

"I feel the same way," the Doctor said. 

"Good," she said. "Because I miss you. Just want to be where you are." She smiled in that way she used to. "I actually considered another song..."

He realized he was being flirted with. "Oh?"

She leaned close to him and sang softly: "If I'm butter, if I'm butter, if I'm butter then he's a hot knife..." She kissed him and it was as if everything was alright again.

...

Straight away after breakfast, Alex came over to the TARDIS to see what was keeping the Doctor so long. Sarah Jane said they had about an hour until the movie was due to start.

When she stepped into the TARDIS, she couldn't see any signs of life, so she started to the kitchen. She started feeling weirder with every step.

"Mmm," came Ginger's voice from the kitchen. "Yeah, that's good."

"You like that?" The Doctor asked.

Alex couldn't stand this. "Okay, kids," she said, putting a hand in front of her eyes as she entered the room. "Giving you a minute to put your clothes back on. Sarah Jane wanted me to tell you the movie starts in an hour."

"Alex, nobody is naked," Ginger said, amusement evident.

"Uh-huh," Alex said skeptically. "With you talking like that and having real weird vibes like everyone had on Valentine's Day?"

"Honestly," Ginger laughed. "We were having ice cream and Doc gave me some hot fudge. I really like hot fudge."

Alex opened her eyes a bit and saw that they were indeed sitting eating ice cream.

"Oh. Well. That's fine, then," she said. "But you're still WAY too into hot fudge. Anyway, gonna go fetch Jack."

"We'll go with you!" Said Ginger. "Bout time I see what kind of hovel he lives in."

...

They approached Jack's front door and Alex took the time to knock loudly. "I have a key," she explained. "But Rule Number One with Jack has always been to remember to knock. After the way I found you two, I think that's more important than ever." She knocked again and got no reply. "Come on." She took out a key. "Let's go see why he's keeping us waiting."

It was a small, but cozy house. Jack kept it tastefully, if sparsely furnished - very few knickknacks or mementos unless they were pieces of film or music history.

"This is the home of a man who moves often," Ginger observed.

"He doesn't like to get tied down, this one," Alex said. "Honestly I was surprised when he said he was buying this place." As they approached his bedroom door she called out: "Uncle Jack? You in there?" She began to knock, but the door was slightly ajar and swung open. "Oh God." She covered her face with her hands for a second time that day. "I didn't know you had company, I'm sorry."

Jack and his companion sat up in the bed, beginning to scramble around for clothes. Ginger was the first person to notice who he was with. "Oh my God, Jack, did you shag the Corsair?"

Alex was so shocked at this question that she removed her hands from her eyes. The Doctor squinted as well. "Well this was...unexpected," he said.

"Absolutely," Ginger laughed, looking mildly impressed. "Damn, Jack, you bagged the Corsair! Like I thought she was just some ice queen but you really got in there, huh?"

"How long has this been going on?" the Doctor asked.

"Around a month," Jack admitted. "It's pretty casual."

"Oh I know, Cora _only _does casual," the Doctor said. "Remember that from in my day."

"Let's not dredge up the past-" the Corsair interjected.

"No, no, I'm interested," Ginger asked, still amused. "What do you mean, 'in my day'?"

"I don't want to know the answer to that," Alex said, looking profoundly disturbed.

"Oh just, we might've had a few drunken nights here and there," the Doctor said. "When I was _much _younger - couple hundred years ago, must've been."

"He was quite dashing back then too," the Corsair admitted, smiling fondly. "Looked a bit like Hugh Laurie."

"I mean you were quite the rugged man yourself back in the day," the Doctor admitted.

"Were you now?" Jack asked, obviously entertaining wicked notions.

"Innnteresting," Ginger said, pondering over this new information as if recognizing how she could use it to embarrass the Doctor later.

"Really, it's not," Alex said. "What is with all of you today? Have we totally flipped roles? I become an adult, so you all start acting like a bunch of hormonal teenagers?"

Ginger laughed. "It would be funny if this were a Band Candy situation, wouldn't it?"

...

Sarah Jane had gotten tickets to Zootopia, a new movie that had just come out a few weeks prior. Alex, being the sensitive girl she always pretended she wasn't, actually cried. Afterwards, they went and had a nice meal in which Alex was particularly happy and content, but almost feeling overwhelmed in the strangest way that she couldn't quite understand.

Ginger took the whole gang (minus Sarah Jane, who had to stay behind to secure Alex's birthday present, and the Corsair) out to Rocky Horror Picture Show, insisting they all dress up as best they could. They didn't have to be characters from the show, they just had to be wacky. Ginger dressed as Magenta, the Doctor dressed as Brad, and Jack just happened to have a Frank-N-Furter costume lying around that Alex insisted she didn't want to know the history of.

There was an air of palpable excitement when they joined the crowd of people waiting for the show to start.

"I always love coming to these things," Ginger said. "My kind of people. Freaks, deviants, people who are dramatic as hell...It's a good time." She took a chance and looked around at the crowd as she surreptitiously brushed her knuckles against the Doctor's.

He looked up at her in surprise as he got what she was transmitting. She didn't look at him, but the smirk on her face was widening.

He smiled, a bit flustered. "You know, Ginger, we, uh, forgot that thing, back in the TARDIS...We left that thing running and should probably go back to check on it...Only take a second..."

Ginger caught on with no trouble. "Alright, as long as we're back in time..."

"We will be," he said, whisking her through the crowd and calling back to the others. "We'll be right back."

As soon as they got out into the hall, Ginger pushed him against a wall and began kissing him. "You know, this is an interesting situation..." the Doctor said. "Since our characters weren't really involved in the movie."

"You talk too much," she said, kissing him some more.

"Wait, not here," he said. "Alex might walk out and see."

"Right, right," she said, casting eyes around for a better spot.

"The TARDIS is in the alley," he said. "And if we don't make good time, we can always just use it to get us when we need to be anyway."

"Good idea," she said, pulling him in that direction.

...

The TARDIS doors were shut behind them and Ginger had the foresight to lock them so nobody would get in. They kissed all the way across the room, as she pushed him up again the TARDIS console and got to work removing his costume.

"Careful, we don't want to accidentally press any buttons," he cautioned her.

"Stop talking," she said, before grinning and launching into a famous song from the show. "Touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me, I wanna feel dirty."

"That's more of a Janet song, but I like where you're going with this..."

...

They used the TARDIS to take them back so it would be only moments after they'd left. They were startled that they'd cut it so close that they crossed paths with their younger selves still against the wall in the hall.

"Huh," Ginger said, tilting her head. "Really gives you perspective, doesn't it?"

"Right," the Doctor said, shaking his head. "Let's just get back in the auditorium before they look up and see us."

They snuck in past their former selves, sliding back into the seats next to the others.

Alex was the first to speak. "Well done you two, really redefining the word 'quickie.'"

All the people Alex's age in their party ooohed while Ginger's jaw dropped and Jack high fived Alex. "That's my girl!" he said.

"That was a _good _shot, kid," Ginger admitted, impressed. "There may be hope for you yet."

"I've decided if I must be scarred for life, I should at least be able to joke about it," she replied.

"How else would you cope?" Ginger said.

...

They returned to Bannerman Road after the show, having had an amazing time. They returned to the TARDIS to find that they had visitors.

"Uh, why are Cupid and the Corsair here?" asked Alex.

"Beats me," the Doctor said.

"If you two aren't joining us for karaoke, then beat it," Ginger said.

The Corsair opened her mouth to say something, but Cupid beat her to it.

"We'd be delighted to join you," said Cupid.

"Who's going first?" asked Jack.

"Me, obviously!" Ginger said.

"It's Alex's birthday," said the Doctor. "Maybe she should go first."

"Oh I don't really...sing in front of people," Alex said. "Ginger can go first."

"Sweeet," she said, clapping her hands and hopping up onto a stage in the holodeck.

...

They spent the next hour taking turns singing songs. 

"Good to see you sing again," Cupid said to Ginger after she returned from the stage. 

"Aren't you gonna take a turn?" Ginger asked.

"Oh I never do," Cupid said. "I always liked it better out in the wings."

"It's still weird to think of you two together," Alex said, looking from the Doctor to Ginger.

"Oh we're not..._together_ together," Ginger protested. "Are we? No. I mean we're not...Anything you'd understand probably."

"Oh but you love him," Alex teased. "It's super gross, but you totally do."

"You're totally gross," Ginger sulked.

"Alas, you'll get no such declaration out of her," Cupid grinned toothily. "What a pity the lady never performed Much Ado About Nothing, for what we have before us are Senior Benedick and the fair Beatrice incarnate."

Ginger still sulked. "A fair comparison, though I resent it entirely."

"But what if the man should swear that he loves you?" teased Cupid.

She couldn't resist. "I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me."

He shook his head. "I say, but the lady cannot fake affection. But she would make a fine unwilling Beatrice."

Then Alex had an idea. "You know what, I might actually sing one song with you. If you're up for it."

"Yeah," Ginger said. She'd been tying to get Alex to sing all night and she'd refused. "Anything you want."

"Alright." She got up. "I'm gonna need...Jack. And Cupid."

"My dear, I've already said that I don't sing," Cupid protested.

"You do if I do," said Alex. "Up on stage, all of you."

Alex arranged them so that Ginger was standing center stage and they were clustered around her. She handed Ginger her mic and searched for the song on the karaoke machine. The words _I Won't Say I'm in Love - Hercules Soundtrack _flashed across the screen.

"Oh no way," Ginger said.

"It's my birthday," Alex reminded her.

Ginger groaned. "Fine."

"I've programmed in who is doing what parts, so we don't get confused," said Alex.

The first part went to Ginger.

_"If there's a prize for rotten judgement,_  
_I guess I've already won that_  
_No man is worth the aggravation_  
_That's ancient history, been there, done that."_

The others joined in:

_"Who d'you think you're kidding_  
_He's the earth and heaven to you_  
_Try to keep it hidden,_  
_Honey we can see right through you_  
_Girl you can't conceal it_  
_We know how you're feeling_  
_Who you thinking of."_

Back to Ginger:

_"No chance no way I won't say it, no no-"_

_"You swoon you sigh why deny it oh oh?"_

_"It's too cliche I won't say I'm in love_  
_I thought my heart had learned its lesson_  
_It feels so good when you start out_  
_My head is screaming "Get a grip girl_  
_Unless you're dying to cry your heart out."_

_"Girl you can't deny it_  
_Who you are is how you're feeling_  
_Baby we're not buying_  
_Hon we saw you hit the ceiling_  
_Face it like a grown-up_  
_When you gonna own up that you got got got it bad?"_

_"No chance no way I won't say it, no no-"_

She caught the Doctor's eye and he gave her his famous two-finger salute. She bit back a laugh.

The others kept singing: _"Give up, give in-"_

Jack got the solo:_ "Check the grin, you're in love."_

She looked away from the Doctor. _"This scene won't play I won't say I'm in love-"_

The three backup singers chimed in: _"We''re doing flips, read our lips, you're in love-"_

_"You're way off base I won't say it_  
_Get off my case I won't say it-"_

_"Girl don't be proud it's okay you're in love-"_

She hadn't seen the Doctor leave his seat, but suddenly he was hopping onto the stage in front of her.

_"At least out loud,"_ she sang, unable to look away from him. _"I won't say I'm in love..."_

He put both hands on her face and kissed her in front of everyone, causing Jack, Alex, and all the Bannerman Road kids to 'ooooh'. Nobody noticed Cupid and Sarah Jane looking a little sad. Nobody noticed the Corsair looking distressed. Well, almost nobody. Alex thought she noticed something, but shrugged it off.

"Cut that out," the Corsair said. "This is Alex's birthday and you're making a scene."

"Oh I forgot," Ginger said, pulling away from the Doctor. "You don't like me. You think I should go. Anyone mind if I do another song now?" Another cheer rang out. "Alright, everyone back in their seats. That includes _you, _Doctor."

She went to the karaoke machine and wasn't surprised at all to find the one she was looking for.

The first notes rang out, and everyone cheered as they realized what it was. 

"This one goes out to the Corsair," she said.

_"Darling you got to let me know_  
_Should I stay or should I go?_  
_If you say that you are mine_  
_I'll be here 'til the end of time_  
_So you got to let me know_  
_Should I stay or should I go?_

_It's always tease, tease, tease_  
_You're happy when I'm on my knees_  
_One day it's fine and next it's black_  
_So if you want me off your back_  
_Well, come on and let me know_  
_Should I stay or should I go?_

_Should I stay or should I go now?_  
_Should I stay or should I go now?_  
_If I go, there will be trouble_  
_And if I stay it will be double_  
_So come on and let me know..."_

There was riotous cheering after she left the stage. She stopped in front of the Corsair. "Well? Anything you want to say to me?"

The Corsair gave her a look that could've frozen a polar bear. "Maybe I should say it in your language."

Ginger chuckled. "Go for it. Stage is yours."

The Corsair hopped up on the stage and took the mic.

An upbeat psychobilly song began playing - one that Ginger recognized after a moment as being by the band The Creepshow.

_"...Spent too much time_  
_Put it all on the line_  
_That kinda attitude will break ya_  
_You're outta time_  
_Made a million mistakes_  
_Now it's time to pay_  
_Keep on hiding from the path that has become your fate_

_So here you go again_  
_On a path that never ends_  
_Keep on traveling down the road to nowhere_  
_You give they take_  
_With all the choices that you make_  
_Keep on pointing all the blame and it ain't fair_  
_And it turns out honey_  
_This ain't the road to nowhere!"_

Ginger cheered with the others as Cora left the stage.

"Gotta admit, you've got a set of pipes on you as well," Ginger said. "I'm impressed."

"You realize that song was for you, right?" Cora snapped. "I couldn't've been more clear if I'd dedicated it outright. God, even when I say it in your language you _still _refuse to listen."

"Alright, whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. "But game respects game." She climbed back on the stage. "You know what would get us back into a good mood? Garbage!" The song 'I think I'm Paranoid' began playing. Ginger liked this song particularly because in some live shows, Shirley changed the lyrics on one line of the song. Ginger felt this gave her an interesting choice for when she sang it herself - to sing the album version or the ever-so-slightly different live version. So far, she'd kept to the album version by instinct. She liked the original lyric of 'go ahead and leave me'. She thought it was defiant. As if to say that she didn't care or need anyone anyway.

"She really isn't bad when you get to know her," the Doctor said. "She's actually really very sweet."

"Sweet?" the Corsair repeated. "God, Doc, tell me you haven't been sleeping with her?" She sighed. "Of course you have. You've really got it bad for her."

"My point is that you'd like her if you gave her a chance," he insisted. 

"She's got you all twisted up. You can't even tell which way is up anymore."

"We have this really symbiotic relationship, that's what she says anyway."

"I bet she does..."

"It's kinda funny, actually. She makes me crazy, I keep her sane."

"You think that's a fair trade?" 

The Doctor didn't know what to say to that.

"You know, it's time for me to go," said the Corsair. "I've got to go argue with Cupid some more." She got up and raised her voice. "C'mon, Cupid, we need to go yell at each other."

Cupid sighed. "I knew it was getting to that time."

...

Sarah Jane made dinner and then they decided it was time for presents. The Doctor watched Alex happily accepting her gifts.

"What's with the face?" Ginger asked him.

"Hm? What face?"

"That nostalgia face."

"I'm just thinking about how they grow up so fast."

"Cheer up," she replied, nudging him. "I mean, they got the whole family thing going on, but we're the lucky ones."

He finally looked directly at her. "How do you figure that?"

"I mean they've got all that complicated interpersonal stuff. The whole loyalty to a fault thing you're supposed to do for family. Being bound together. Belonging to each other. That's too much to put on anyone. We get to be outside that, we get to be free. Families are groups of people committing crimes against each other but being expected to keep it in total secrecy."

"You talk about family like it's war."

She raised her eyebrows. "Isn't it? If it isn't war, then it's politics. And politics is warfare."

Alex would get a great many things for her birthday that year, and they were all incredible, but Sarah Jane had saved the best for last. She took them up to the attic room where she'd readied Mr Smith and K-9 to be there.

"Technically, we could've done this two weeks ago when the paperwork was drawn up and approved," Sarah Jane said. "But then I thought...I should let her make this decision as an adult. When she's making the decision freely and there's no real incentive to do so."

"What are you on about?" Alex asked, a bit nervously.

"Alex," Sarah Jane said. "We all love you very much. You're like family to us. And now we'd like to ask you to be part of the family." She took out some paperwork and a pen. "These are legal adoption papers. I did some checking, and turns out you very much can adopt someone as an adult. That's our gift to you, if you want it. A legal, court-approved adoption. No strings attached."

"If I want it?" Alex said, getting emotional. "Of course I want it. Where do I sign?" Sarah Jane smiled and showed her where. "And you'll be my mum, then? And you two..." She looked at Luke and Sky. "You'll be my brother and sister. For real?"

"You already were, as far as we were concerned," Luke said.

"This will just make it official," Sky said.

She ran and hugged them both, unable to stop herself from crying.

"I guess the only thing now is who's gonna be my dad, right?" Alex asked, as she turned back to the paperwork. "I mean does that automatically get to be Jack since he's my godfather or...?" She blinked, feeling quite overwhelmed all of a sudden. Everything was much more happy than she was used to feeling, coming at her from all directions. But then there was one dissonant note in the cacophony around her. She zeroed in on it. "Ginger? You alright?"

Then, without another word, Alex fainted.

...

They laid her out on her bed, whispering frantically.

"Maybe we should call a doctor," Luke said.

"He means a real doctor," Sarah Jane said, anticipating what the Doctor was going to say when he opened his mouth.

"I don't understand, she was fine," Rani said. "Then she just, like, keeled over."

"Get her on some anti-anxieties, she'll be fine," the Corsair said, making everyone jump because none of them had known she was there.

"Why do you sound like you know what's going on?" the Doctor asked, starting to get fed up with the secrecy especially when it came to Alex.

"Because she does," Alex said, beginning to come around. "She always has. It's why she's using me."

"Look who's awake!" Clyde laughed, relieved. "How are you feeling, Wild Card?"

"Wild Card?" Ginger asked.

"It's a long story," Alex waved this off.

"What do you mean?" Rani asked. "Who is this? And what's she using you for, Al?"

"I dunno," Alex said, trying to sit up. "I just...feel it. There's something Cora wants me to do that I'm apparently not doing well enough. And she's not surprised that I know this. Even though I definitely am."

"That's because she's meddling," Cupid said, striding into the room. "She does that. She means well, but she's a _bit _pushy. Personally I've never approved of using kids, but that's the worlds we live in."

"What's the last thing that happened before you passed out?" the Corsair asked, determined to steer the conversation.

"I was about to sign the papers," Alex said, thinking about it. "I was about to sign...and there was so much happy. Except for her." She pointed at Ginger. "I don't know what that was, just, like...conflict. She felt like something wounded."

"I imagine she's probably jealous that you got a family where she didn't," the Corsair said, dismissively.

Alex zeroed in on Cupid, who she sensed was almost wounded by this comment. He noticed her watching him and smiled. "The Corsair is right in this case, however. Putting Alex on anti-anxieties will do wonders."

"Why?" the Doctor asked. "What's happening to her?"

"Alex and I are very similar people," Cupid said. "Our abilities are nearly the same. Except I can see and read a person's energy without being affected by it. She can't see it, but she can feel it. This is why she's more prone to anxiety and depression than the general population. You see...young Alex, is an empath."

"I'm not human?" Alex asked.

"No you're human," Cupid replied. "Absolutely 100% human as can be. Empathic abilities used to be part of humans in pre-historic times, but they lost it. The coding still lives on as part of junk DNA." He looked at Cora to take it from there.

"Yours was activated by a chain of events," the Corsair explained. "First your mother was exposed to a strain of alien virus when you were in the womb that kickstarted the process, but it wasn't anywhere near what it would become. It just shielded you from being affected by the Red Key in the same way your parents were. But the Red Key did have an affect, and you started being more open and receptive. Then you started soaking up Rift Energy day after day hanging out with the Torchwood Team in Cardiff, which was what really did it. You've been an empath since you were a child, you just probably never noticed it. This isn't mind-reading or fortune-telling...you sense the energies people give out, and you work with it. It's made you wise beyond your years - the only times you do anything risky are when you ignore what that intuition is telling you about a person. Sometimes what we want is stronger than what we know."

"Like with Kira," Alex said. "I knew all along that we just weren't going to be able to work. I felt it. But I wanted it not to be true."

"You have to be within range to pick up on people's emotions as well," Cupid explained. "Mine is more long-range since I can see it. Yours requires you to be within a few square feet of them. If you go upstairs you're out of range."

"Which explains how she misread the situation when she thought that Sarah Jane was going to give her up to social services," said Jack. "But I don't understand why she'd ignore what her intuition is telling her in the first place when she's within range. Why wouldn't she naturally learn to trust it?"

"Oh my dear boy," said Cupid. "This isn't a judgement on you, you were just doing the best you could. But when a child grows up knowing something is true but has all the adults in her life tell her that the instinct is incorrect, she learns not to trust it."

It took him a moment to understand. "Oh you mean...all those times I lied to her about her parents...I made her lose confidence in herself?"

Cupid nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"So it's like she's good at reading people?" Ginger asked. "I mean, all of us are good at that."

"You're not good at reading people, Ginger," Cora replied. "I know you think you are, but you're just an autistic alien with no concept of empathy-"

"You know it's a myth that autistic people don't have empathy," Cupid said in a low voice. "They often have too much of it. The problem is expressing it in a way that others can understand. You know as well as anyone that without Alex's dad passing down his autistic genes, the Red Key and the Rift Energy would have nothing to bind to."

"Wait, so my dad really was autistic?" Alex asked. "Jack said he suspected it, but was never sure."

"Absolutely," said Cupid. "Some might even say that your empathic abilities are an extreme manifestation of certain autistic traits amplified. I met an Alex once who didn't have the Torchwood experience, and she presented much more on Ginger's side of the spectrum."

"Ginger's side of the spectrum?" Alex asked.

"You haven't told them that?" asked Cupid.

"It's not like I'm hiding it," Ginger said, uncomfortably.

"Ginger being autistic actually makes a lot of sense," Jack said. "Now that I think about it."

"This whole room is full of people who present on some part of the spectrum," the Corsair said. "Luke and Sky are the most obvious, of course. Ginger is almost as obvious if you know what to look for. Alex's abilities almost cancel her traits out. The Doctor just swaggers around being so good-looking that most people would never know the difference."

"Wait, Doc is too?" Alex asked.

"Not to be a huge Spaceballs nerd here," said Ginger, looking around at everyone. "But oh my God I'm surrounded by Aspies."

Alex chuckled, understanding the reference. "Keep firing, Aspies." She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. "Wait, what's an Aspie?"

"It's what people with Asperger's call ourselves," said Ginger. "Most of us actually prefer not to call it Asperger's. There are a lot of reasons, but one of the most prominent is that the name itself is _so _easy to mock."

"My point was never about the autism," the Corsair said, impatiently. "My point is that Ginger doesn't understand social cues but she's been so traumatized by humanity that she overcompensates with paranoia. Just because she can read people 75% of the time doesn't mean that the other 25% is unimportant. She lacks the empathy to understand."

"Cora, that's enough," Cupid snapped, surprising everyone. "That's uncalled for and I'd appreciate it if you'd apologize to her now."

The Corsair rolled her eyes and opened her mouth but Ginger beat her to it. "No that's alright. Can't do anything with an apology anyway. She's just going to keep being angry at me for whatever it is she's angry at me for."

"She's not angry," Alex said, her eyes getting wide. "Mostly she's just...scared. What has Ginger done that's got you so scared of her?"

"You said anti-anxieties will fix this?" Ginger asked, anxious to not have that conversation because she had no idea where it would lead.

"It won't make the ability go away, it'll just make it easier to manage," Cupid replied, back to his reassuring self. "She won't be overwhelmed by it. Right now she's like a raw nerve. With the right amount of medication, she'll be able to manage just fine. With the right amount of help, you should get a handle on the side effects."

"Side effects?" asked Jack.

"For instance," Cupid explained. "An increased susceptibility to mind control."

"Is _that _what that is?" Alex asked. "I thought I was just weak."

"You're anything but weak, Alex," Ginger cut in. "But it makes sense - every hero's gotta have a weakness."

"I'm not a hero," Alex said. "Forgive me for asking, because I know it's rude. But what are you two doing here anyway?"

"I don't know about her," Cupid said, with a smile. "But I wanted to bring you a birthday gift."

"That's...weird," Alex said. "But alright?"

Cupid approached and pulled something from his pocket. "It's a mood ring," he explained. "I thought it would be funny."

"It sort of is?" Alex admitted, having to admit it was sweet if a little weird. She started pushing herself out of bed, ignoring the protests of the others. "I think I'm alright to get up now. No really, I'm fine now. I just...I want to go upstairs and sign the papers. I want to be here with my family. Properly."

"That's what we'll do, then," Sarah Jane said.

"I just need to talk to Jack for a moment, then," Alex said.

The two of them were left alone. "What is it, what's wrong?" Jack asked.

"We're just going to breeze past the part where the Corsair explained what's happened with me without explaining what she wants from me," Alex said. "And way past the part where Cupid always knows more than he's saying. Let's move on to the part where I tell you that now everything makes sense. Because I did always know. As a kid. When you'd tell me that you were out looking for my parents. I knew they weren't coming back and you were just trying to protect me. I knew it deep down but...I ignored it."

"You wanted it to be true, you wanted them to be alive-"

"I wanted you to be telling the truth," she said. "Because I didn't want to believe that you would lie to me. That's all I've ever been upset about. But I understand. Now that I...can focus. And understand things. I was too young to be able to sort out complex adult emotions, but...I can now. And I forgive you. For all of that. You've done the best you could, Uncle Jack. You've been a wonderful godfather, and I love you."

"I love you too, kid," he said, hugging her. "You've really grown up to be an incredible person. I couldn't be more proud." He pulled away from her. "But I can't take all the credit for that. I already have a sort of legal family claim to you by being your godather. And now Sarah Jane's about to have it too. But there's someone else who deserves it as well."

...

"I'm ready to sign," Alex said, taking the pen from Sarah Jane. "I see Sarah Jane has already put her signature down as my new mum. I've decided that I can't do this without someone to sign as my dad too." She turned to the Doctor. "Doc...would you?"

He looked almost surprised, but mostly touched at this request. "I would be honored," he said. "But doesn't Jack...?"

"It was his idea," she said. "He thinks it's time you officially became one of the family."

She held out the pen to him and he crossed the room to take it. He beamed at Sarah Jane. "Not how you pictured any of this happening, is it?"

"I may have had girlish fantasies about having children with you one day," Sarah Jane admitted. "But nothing quite this wonderful."

The Doctor smiled and wrote down his favorite false name (John Smith) on the dotted line. He handed back the pen to Alex, who still had yet to sign.

"Well," she laughed, crying. "Here goes." She wrote down on the line "Alexia Arcadia Mitchell" before hesitating and adding "Smith".

"Alexia Arcadia Mitchell Smith. That's beautiful," Sarah Jane said. "We're one big happy Smith family now, aren't we? The way it should be."

"I wanted to honor my birth parents too," Alex explained. "Don't want to ever forget."

"Your middle name is Arcadia," the Doctor said, feeling strangely moved. "That's...Yeah, you're right. We shouldn't forget where we came from."

"Mum," Alex said, looking at Sarah Jane. "Dad?" She looked at the Doctor. "Isn't this the part of the movie where we hug now?"

And, unable to resist being asked in such a way, they immediately obliged in creating what quickly became a group hug. Ginger was left out, of course, as was Cupid.

Alex drew back. "Alright, you guys...Anyone feel like playing a round of Uno?"

"You guys go on without us," Ginger said. "Bit beat, myself."

Alex just looked at her strangely for a moment. "Right. Guess you can do that, then." She chuckled to herself. "Funny how I'm the one saddled with a card game nickname - if I've gotta be Wild Card, then you've gotta be Uno, right?"

"Why's that?" Ginger asked.

"Because your objective always seems to separate yourself from the rest of the deck," Alex began. "Be all on your own."

"This...empath thing...it's kinda creeping me out, Mitchell. Besides, the Corsair took off even before we came back up here, so don't accuse me of being Uno unless you're willing to call her Solitaire."

The others got started setting up the game without her. A moment later, Cupid put a comforting hand on Ginger's arm, and she was surprised that she didn't immediately flinch away. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, with such kindness. "I know this is difficult for you."

"How do you know that?" she replied, in a low voice.

"It was hard for me too," he continued. "The concept of family is...such a lofty goal. One can be forgiven for giving up on it."

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" she asked, getting a strange vibe from him.

He did look for a moment as if he wanted to say something then thought better of it. "All in good time, my dear. I promise you'll have your answers when you're ready to hear them."

"What makes you think I'm not ready now?"

"My dear, you know the answer to that."

"Can we go outside?" She asked. "Just the two of us. I'd like to talk to you."

...

Cupid thought it was funny how Ginger sat on the same spot on the garden wall where the Doctor had sat the night before.

"You're troubled, my dear," Cupid said, gently. 

"I'm bad for him, right?" She asked, blinking back tears. "I'm distracting him from whatever is supposed to happen."

"It's never so simple as that," Cupid said. 

"The Corsair doesn't think we should be together. She says I'm bad. And I am. I just can't let the Doctor know that. I have to protect him."

"From you, you mean?"

"From anything that could hurt him." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's funny when the warning signs can feel like they're butterflies..." She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"I'm sorry that it's so hard for you," Cupid said softly. "I wish I could help. I wish there was some sort of eleventh hour plot we could use to fix it. Reboot it and erase it and start over, just like in the Good Omens book."

"You like Good Omens?" She asked.

He smiled. "It's become a sort of inspiration to me. I always liked the little stories you'd write about it. I still have them packed away somewhere."

...

Back in the house, it was Alex's turn to put down a card in their game of Uno. She took her time to deliberate, then put down a Wild Card.

"So what is it, Wild Card?" Asked Clyde. "What will it be?"

"Red."

...

Suddenly Ginger was laser focused on Cupid. "What do you mean?" She asked him, her voice low and accusatory. "Why would YOU have my stories? Who are you to know so much about me? To talk like you know me?"

"I do know you. I've looked out for you all your life."

"Then you haven't done a very good job," she said scathingly.

"I know," he said heavily. "I'm sorry. I wished I could help when you needed me to. But I failed you. Watching what happened to you...it broke my heart, pumpkin."

The word hit her like a bullet and she stood up sharply. "No." She shook her head. "No that's impossible. You're just some weird guy, you're not him. He's dead. You're just trying to get to me."

Cupid looked at her with eyes full of sorrow. "You never knew what he really looked like, did you?"

The tears were really falling now. "Why would you do this? If it's to get under my skin, it's working. I let him down."

"You never let me down, petal. It's always been me who has let you down."

Ginger choked back a sob. "No. It doesn't make sense."

"It's not supposed to make sense to you. I'm very sorry."

Ginger gave him a furious look and ran for the door to Sarah Jane's house. She pushed her way past Sarah Jane and Alex who could both see that something was wrong. It took her a few moments to locate the Doctor, but she finally found him. 

"Let's go," she said.

"You alright?" He asked her, scanning her face with his eyes. "Have you been crying?"

"Doctor, please, let's go," she pled in a small voice.

"Yeah. Of course."

...

It still took the Doctor and Ginger another ten minutes to say goodnight to everyone (during which time Ginger was almost successful at pretending she was fine), but finally they started making their way to the TARDIS. When they stepped out into Sarah Jane's garden, they found Cora and Cupid having a row.

"How can you still be so naive?" Cora was shouting. "You're even older than I am and I get the eternal optimist thing, but you know how this ends! One way or another! Is that what you want?"

"Of course it isn't what I want," Cupid replied, not his usual happy self. "That's why I have to believe it won't happen this time. Things are already so different, who's to say they can't change the ending?"

"You're a fool," Cora seethed. "You're a damn fool if you really believe you can save this one. It's doomed, and the only hope we have for protecting this universe-"

"Don't you say that," Cupid said, suddenly infuriated beyond belief. "I know what you're going to say, and I won't tolerate it. I won't hear of it. I won't just..._give up_ like you have. I can't just abandon them."

"What's going on out here?" the Doctor asked, alarmed.

"The Corsair was just leaving," Cupid said, an uncharacteristic rage simmering just below the surface.

"No I wasn't!" Cora snapped at him. "Doctor, I need to talk to you. This has gone on long enough."

"Corsair-" Cupid warned.

"Stop acting like I haven't already done everything I could," Cora talked over him. "God, I don't know what kind of spell she has over you people to make you _so _protective of her, but it has to end! The Doctor is behaving more unpredictably and more irrationally than he has in _any _other run and we have to stop this now!"

"What are you _talking _about?" the Doctor asked. "Any other run of what?"

"Doctor," Cora said, crossing over to him with an air of desperation. "You are risking everything. And for what? You don't even know her." She nodded at Ginger, who was being unusually quiet.

"I know her well enough," the Doctor said, ignoring these words.

"No you don't," the Corsair said. "You don't know her at all. I've tried telling you before, but maybe since this universe is so unpredictable I can get through to you. It's time you knew who she really is and what she's capable of-"

"No I don't need to know that," the Doctor said, firmly. "I don't need to know anything if she doesn't want me to know. Nothing you can tell me is going to make me change my mind. You're going to tell me who she really is? _This _is who she really is. Not who she's been before. Who she is in this moment. Because that's all that matters." 

Ginger looked up at him, suddenly seized by a powerful feeling of relief and affection.

"No it's not!" Cora protested. "There's so much more at stake-"

"Oh my god," Ginger said softly as she was seized by an impossible notion. "Was it you?"

The Corsair squinted at her. "Was what me?"

"The message?" she asked. "You said before you know exactly who I am...Did you leave me that message?"

"What are you on about?" the Corsair asked.

"She wouldn't do that, Ginger," the Doctor said, understanding instantly that she was accusing the Corsair of being the one who kidnapped them. "Whatever's happened, she's not capable of murder like that. Not even to prove a point." He turned to the Corsair. "But Cora, can I ask you something seriously? When did you get so gloomy? You used to be fun."

She looked at him for a second, as if deciding how much she wanted to say out loud. She half-glanced at Ginger before deciding better of it. "One of us had to grow up."

"I'm not letting you let him die," Ginger said, finally speaking up. "That's what this is about, isn't it? The prophesy that he has to die? We made a promise. We take care of each other. He keeps me alive and I keep him alive. Symbiotic."

"Sounds co-dependent to me," Cora said, scathingly. "You should both be grownups and take care of yourselves instead of using each other as an excuse to keep up a toxic cycle that I've seen you go around in over and over again."

"I'm not leaving her," the Doctor said, putting an arm around Ginger's waist. "Not now, not ever. She's got nobody else. I wouldn't leave her even if I could."

"Doctor, think for just a second," the Corsair said. "She reminds you of someone sometimes, just for a moment, doesn't she? Think about that. It's not a coincidence."

"He said he's not leaving me, alright?" Ginger snapped. "Now leave us alone." She put her arm around him as well and started steering him back towards the TARDIS.

"That's where you're going to end up, you know!" Cora shouted after them. "If you keep on this path! Completely on your own! You will lose all of this! And for what? To be stuck with just each other? Is that what you want?"

The TARDIS doors slammed in her face.

"Well, you happy now?" she asked Cupid. "Your stubborn refusal to face facts is going to kill us all."

"I do have to admit to some concern," Cupid replied. "That didn't...leave me with the greatest sense of confidence." He was suddenly angry again. "I can't believe you confronted them like that! They were so close!"

"Yeah, that was the problem!" she protested.

"Not close to each other, close to a breakthrough! They were both coming to me separately, almost ready to let each other go! I've never seen that from them before! I fear I played my part in pushing her away when she figured out that...But you came and confronted them like that! Now we've definitely lost them! You pushed them too hard!"

The Corsair screamed out and collapsed. Cupid rushed forward to catch her.

"Cora, what is it?" he asked, tentatively. "Timelines shifting again?"

"Too many possibilities," she spat out, clutching her head. "None of them good...Can't make sense..." She passed out.

...

The Doctor closed the TARDIS doors behind them with a thud that echoed through the silent room.

"You alright?" the Doctor asked her, turning to face her and raising a hand to her cheek.

"Very rarely," she said, leaning into the touch. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I know this was probably hard for you," the Doctor said. "As a foster kid. I know you must've...been through a lot. Given up a lot of hope."

"I'm happy for her," she whispered.

"But you're sad as well. For your own sake."

"I'm a lot of things. I'm a wealth of contradictions." She kissed him.

"What was that for?"

"You stood up for me. Chose me. Nobody ever does that."

"I always will."

She kissed him again and kept doing so as they went slowly back into his room. He closed the door behind them.

"Chill me, thrill me, fulfill me," she said, trying to infuse the situation with some of the Rocky Horror humor from hours earlier.

He kissed her and pushed her against the wall. As her back hit the wall, though, she let out a soft gasp as she had the very real sensation of that having happened before in a different way. She suddenly felt much younger. Much more scared. Much more angry.

"Get _off _me!" she shouted, pushing him away from her with a surprising amount of strength.

"Ginger," he said, noticing the change. "You alright?"

"Don't touch me," she said, breathing quickening with what seemed like a simultaneous mixture of fear and anger.

"Not touching you," he assured her. "Ginger, you're safe, it's me...It's the Doctor. Nobody's going to hurt you. Nobody will touch you, I promise."

Her eyes got wide and filled with confusion as she started to recognize her surroundings again. "Doctor?" Tears began leaking from her eyes. "Where did you go?"

"I've been right here, Rabbit, I never left-"

"Why did you get over there, I just...Hold me, please."

"I'd like to do that," he said, cautiously. "But is that what you want me to do? I don't want to touch you unless you're sure."

"Please, I just...I need you to have your arms around me, please..."

And he couldn't help it, he came to her side and wrapped her in an embrace that she sank into so gratefully that she forgot to remain upright. Her knees gave out under her and he guided her to the bed.

"What do you need?" he asked her, smoothing her hair away from her face. "I'll do anything. Just tell me."

"Just stay with me," she said, sounding uncharacteristically small. "Stay and hold me. And we'll just...we'll just sleep. I'm so tired."

"Alright," he said, feeling very concerned. They lay down on the bed with her head on his chest and he played with her hair. "It'll all be alright in the morning."

"Sing to me," she said. "I have trouble sleeping without music, you know that."

"I don't know any songs-" he protested.

"Yes you do," she said. "Please. For me."

He took a breath, knowing he didn't really have a choice. He started singing a very soft, very off-key version of a Phantogram song he knew.

_"This song is about you_  
_Cause I can't live without you_  
_When a song is about you_  
_Then you know you've got problems_  
_That you can choose_

_There's a hole in my conscience_  
_There's a hole in my country_  
_Like a nose that keeps running_  
_Like a hose that won't stop flowing_  
_And I know that it's coming_  
_It's coming_  
_It's coming_  
_It's coming soon_

_Here's why_  
_Cause you are the ocean_  
_And I'm good at drowning_

_The morning will follow_  
_And I wont remember_

_It feels like I've been here_  
_I've been here forever..."_

...

It was that night that the nightmares returned.

_Always the same for her. She could hear the laughing of the strange man from beyond the fire. She turned away from him just in time for another man to punch her in the face._

_She fell to the floor and glared up at him. "Look what you've done," the man growled. "Look at this mess! You're an idiot, a lost cause! There's nothing anyone can do for you now."_

_"You're wrong," she spat._

_This angered him further and he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her to her feet. "Look at this mess! You should have known better!" She was able to now discern the hazy forms of bodies from beneath the flames. "They let you into their lives and this is how you repay them? You're bad luck! You're cursed! And you thought, what, that you could actually have friends? You got them all killed!"_

_Ginger was shocked to realized that the bodies on the floor were of Alex, Jack, Sarah Jane...Everyone. Or almost everyone._

_"Where's the Doctor?" she asked, struggling against the man. "Where is he? What have you done with him?"_

_"I haven't done anything to him, didn't have to," the man said. "He saw what you did - saw you as you really are. And now he's left you. The way you deserve."_

"NO!" she screamed, bolting upright in bed.

"Ginger, what's wrong?" the Doctor said, sitting up and putting his arms around her in an effort to soothe her. "Ginger, it was just a bad dream. You're safe, Rabbit, you're safe..."

Her breathing slowed as she focused on his face. "Doctor?" She reached out to hold his face in her hands. "You're still here. You didn't leave me."

"I said I wouldn't, didn't I?"

"You don't hate me?"

"Hate you? Why would I hate you? I don't think I ever could."

She started to cry again and he held her to his chest, lying back down on the mattress. "It's alright," the Doctor whispered. "It was just a bad dream. Nothing to be afraid of. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Don't leave me," she whispered. "Don't ever leave me. Not ever. For any reason. Promise me."

He didn't hesitate this time. "I promise. I'm never going to leave you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I'm going on another hiatus next week, but when I return my Good Omens series will return too. That's been on hiatus for most of the month, so it'll be good to have it back.
> 
> It's a really stressful time for all of us right now. One of my jobs just announced that it's closing after this week so things are gonna be a little tight from now on. Hopefully we can ride this out. Stay safe, guys.


	44. Youngblood

Ginger wasn't typically the cuddly type - always slept on her own side of the bed, though her flailing limbs did sometimes travel to smack him in the face. This night was different. She slept restlessly in his arms, but he held her tightly to keep her from rolling too fitfully. She'd asked him to, so he didn't intend to let her go. She rolled over at last, managing to fall onto her back and break his hold. Her hair fell into her face, so he reached out to smooth it back. He could feel a strong psychic energy coming from her. He knew that he shouldn't, that it might be an intrusion, but he took her back into his arms and leaned his face against hers, letting himself fall into her dreamscape...

_He was in a classroom. He looked out the window to see an orange sky that was almost, but not quite, right. He glanced at the many teenagers at their desks, not sure what he was looking for here. Suddenly he saw movement at the window that drew his attention back there._

_A teenage girl with long, wild red hair and blue cat-eyed glasses was prying open the window and leaning inside. She tapped the shoulder of a timid-looking boy, who was startled by her sudden appearance._

_"Psst, come on!" she hissed, glancing over at the teacher who was mysteriously not noticing this._

_"What are you doing?" the boy asked, glancing at the teacher with more anxiety._

_"Busting you out," the girl replied, her Edinburgh accent a sharp contrast to his English one. "Come on, before she sees."_

_"You can't go," hissed a severe-looking Asian girl who was sitting behind the boy. "Study hall is important, you can't just decide to ditch."_

_"Alright, you can be lectured on the rules by the wanna-be pirate, or you can come out with a real rebel," the girl rolled her eyes. "What'll it be?"_

_"Well, uh..." the boy stammered, unsure._

_The girl rolled her eyes again, this time with a bit more amusement. She grabbed him by the collar and gave him a kiss on the mouth._

_"What in God's name is going on here?" Suddenly the study hall teacher was next to the boy's desk._

_"Sorry, miss," the girl said. "Had to administer emergency CPR. Lucky I got here in time, really. He was dying of boredom." She pulled herself back out the window, beckoning to him. "You coming or what?"_

_"I, uh..." he stammered again, red in the face. "I'd better stay."_

_She rolled her eyes again. "Fine. Be a total square about it." Then she bounded off._

_The scene changed, suddenly he was in a dorm room. The same boy from before was there. The window suddenly shattered as a giant rock was thrown through it._

_"What are you doing?" the boy asked, looking down at that same girl down below._

_"Vandalism," she replied, chewing on a candy. "You coming down or what?"_

_"I dunno if that's a good idea," he said. "You got me in a lot of trouble earlier. Cora won't let me hear the end of it."_

_There came the eye roll again. "Well she's not here to be a buzzkill. Come on. You've got to live a little for once. Got this new Earth thing called a Cassette tape. If you stay up there, I won't show it to you."_

_He thought this over, finding the entire idea enticing. "Alright. Just for a while. But I have to get back before anyone notices."_

_He came down and she took his hand, pulling him by the light of the two moons into a nearby grove of trees. She found a rather large boulder to sit on and got to work setting up her portable tape deck._

_"They'd never let us listen to this stuff up at the school," she complained. "Earth music is too rebellious for their strict tastes." She noticed he was still standing awkwardly. "You gonna sit, or what? I won't bite..."_

_"So you're not a vampire then?" he shot back._

_She smiled. "I enjoy that rumor about me. It's one of my favorites. Now sit. Before I have to use my vampire powers to compel you."_

_He hesitated before sitting down on the very opposite side of the rock._

_"Now that just won't do," she said, exasperated. "These things - headphones, they call them, won't stretch that far. You've got to come closer."_

_He hesitated again, before complying._

_"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" She was evidently enjoying herself a lot. "Now, take this one." She handed him one earbud and leaned close to him so their heads were almost touching._

_The song began - "Awful" by Hole._

_"This isn't half bad-" he started to turn towards her, but she kissed him again at that moment._

_The Doctor suddenly realized that Ginger was standing next to him, observing the same scene in silent contemplation._

_"Is this supposed to be us?" he asked aloud, with no small amount of amusement._

_She chuckled softly without looking at him. "What? Got some notes?"_

_"I'm sorry," he said, finally looking directly at her. "I know I shouldn't be in here. It's an invasion of your privacy. I can go."_

_"I'm as surprised as you are," Ginger said. "But I actually like you here. At least for now. The only time my mind is at ease is when you're in it."_

_"Then maybe you should let me in more often?"_

_She shook her head with a wry smile. "I'm safe with you here. Doesn't mean you're safe in here."_

_"Oooh," he said, pretending to shiver and wrapping his arms around himself. "Good line. Very ominous. I can see why the other recruits at the FBI called you 'Spooky'." He nudged her with an arm._

_She laughed. "Shut up."_

_"No, I mean it," he teased. "I've got chills."_

_"Well c'mere then," she said, feigning exasperation. He moved closer and took her in his arms as they both kept their attention on the two teenagers before them. The scene had never stopped._

_"Sweet dreams are made of this," the Doctor mused._

_Ginger laughed. "Well who am I to disagree?"_

_"Very derivative, don't you think?" the Doctor _ _asked. "Trying some very teen romance flick things with a hint of Faith Lehane for good measure."_

_She shrugged. "I'll admit to my influences."_

_"Honestly you've got it all wrong," he said. "Not to criticize a fantasy, but this isn't how our teen years would go at all. For starters, you've got completely the wrong idea about what I was like."_

_She raised her eyebrows. "Have I, now?"_

_"Yeah. I was less Remus Lupin, more James Potter."_

_She grinned. "I like the sound of that."_

_"Also, for another thing, Cora didn't go to school with me. She was older. We didn't meet til I was out of school."_

_"Honest mistake."_

_"Well now that we've established that we are both lucid dreaming in your head, you mind if I take control just for a bit? Show you how it would really happen?"_

_"Be my guest."_

_The scene changed, this time with the Doctor in charge of it. The same teenage Ginger from before was there, just with far more dark makeup._

_"Is that how you imagined I dressed?" Adult Ginger asked, amused._

_"Isn't it?"_

_"I wish."_

_Teenage Ginger was sitting in a courtyard behind some bushes - evidently ditching class. She had her nose deep in a copy of The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy._

_Two teenage boys came laughing around the corner of a building. Ginger somehow recognized which one was meant to be the Doctor, even though he looked nothing like her approximation. The teenage Doctor spotted Ginger in the bushes and stopped laughing, gesturing towards her so his friend became aware. They both got wicked looks on their faces as they stealthily moved forward to lean against the wall on either side of her. The boy who wasn't the Doctor snatched her chunky headphones off her head, and a snippet of 'Underjoyed' by Jack Off Jill could be heard._

_Adult Ginger laughed. "You remembered."_

_"The song you were listening to when we first met," Adult Doctor smiled. "Now shhh. You'll miss the show."_

_"Now now, Kos, that was rude," teenage Doctor was saying, taking the headphones from the other boy and returning them to teenage Ginger. "I think by law now that you've gone and disturbed someone with such impeccable music taste, she's legally allowed to kill you."_

_"Shove off," teenage Ginger replied, snatching her headphones back._

_"Actually I wanted to ask," the Doctor replied. "You also on the anthropology track? Because I don't know any other reason someone would be hiding out in the bushes with old human technology, but I've never seen you in any of my classes."_

_"You sure do ask a lot of questions," she replied._

_"Whatcha reading?" the teenage Doctor asked, snatching the book she'd been reading._

_"There and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale by Bilbo Baggins," teenage Ginger said, voice dripping with sarcasm._

_"Whatever it is, I just bet it's contraband," the Doctor's friend said. "Some Earth book we're not meant to be reading. I like it already."_

_"I'd like it back, actually," she said, voice dripping with venom._

_"You skip class to read a book?" the boy said. "Bit boring, isn't it?"_

_"Quiet down, Koschei," teenage Doctor said. He turned back to teenage Ginger. "He doesn't understand how to keep quiet. Keeps getting us caught."_

_"Where's the fun of sneaking around if you don't risk getting caught?" Koschei smirked._

_"I was reading." She snatched her book back. "I'd quite like to get back to that now."_

_"What's your name?" the teenage Doctor asked. _

_"What's it to you?" she spat back, trying to find her place in the book._

_"Fine, I like a mystery," he replied, intrigued. "You can call me Theta. Everyone else does."_

_"I know who you are," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Always running around showing off, getting into real obvious trouble because you want people to see. Bit boring because nobody can ever prove it's you."_

_The Doctor and Ginger sized each other up, and suddenly Koschei wasn't having fun anymore. "Theta, you said we were cutting class to go get drunk. Are we going or what?"_

_"Yeah..." the Doctor replied, not looking away from Ginger. "Yeah. Let's go do that."_

_"Yeah, that sounds just like you," Ginger said, disinterestedly. "Going off to party with a bunch of people you hardly know. Doesn't exactly scream my idea of a good time."_

_"Antisocial type, are you?" Koschei asked._

_"Actually it was just going to be the two of us this time," the Doctor said. "Experimenting with Grackenvite Venom this time. You can tag along if you want."_

_"I don't really do that stuff..." she began._

_"Oh of course. 'She's a loner, not a stoner-'"_

_"Around other people," she finished, though she did appear to pick up on his reference. "Drugs are more fun when other people aren't around to harsh your buzz." She got to her feet. "Now if you'll excuse me. I won't be seeing you."_

_The scene changed again. Now it was night in a library. Now the two of them were actually seeing this from the first person instead of as spectators, as Ginger pushed a key card into the door, glancing hastily around as she quickly stepped inside. Just before she could close it behind her, a hand reached out to stop it._

_"Knew I'd find you here," the Doctor said._

_She was furious to be found out, but in too much of a hurry. "Fine, get inside."_

_"Buy me a drink first," he teased._

_She groaned. "Hurry up, before someone sees."_

_"Oh a quickie, is it?"_

_"You are so obnoxious," she pulled him inside and quietly closed the door. She immediately let go of him and began looking for something in this section of the library._

_"I noticed my key card was missing," the Doctor continued, watching her. "After we met earlier."_

_"Yeah, well, I nicked it," Ginger replied, absently. "Was surprisingly easy, since you were busy talking too much. Was gonna give it back-"_

_"Once you'd cloned it?" he smirked. "Yeah, I figured. Bit too much attention drawn if it goes permanently missing."_

_"Like I'd use my own key card to steal things, that's just bloody stupid," she replied. "But fine, here." She reached in her pocket and pulled out his key card and the copy. "Take 'em back, I always switch 'em out after I've used 'em a few times anyway."_

_"Clever little thief, aren't you? I'll take back mine, thanks, but you can keep your copy. You earned it."_

_This surprised her enough to stop her in her tracks. "But they'll come down on you for not returning things."_

_He shrugged. "So be it. Now, you said you have your own key card. You're studying anthropology as well?"_

_"Truthfully?" she replied. "Only just so I can have access to this stuff. I don't really like the way they teach about humans here. Don't think it's the full picture. So I come back here to the restricted section when I need new inspiration."_

_"What is your real interest, then?"_

_"I'm interested in the music, the films, the books..." she admitted. "Considering that I'd like some day to make some of my own."_

_"Interesting," he replied, definitely taken by her now. "You play, then?"_

_She shrugged. "Piano, guitar...Not as well as I'd like, though. Mostly I'm a singer."_

_"Excellent. My friends and I are in a band. Would you like to join?"_

_"You've not even heard me play."_

_"Yeah, well, we're not very good. Can't hurt to throw in someone else. Who are your influences?"_

_"Mostly Earth influences, don't really care for Gallifreyan music-"_

_"Bikini Kill, Jack Off Jill, Garbage, Queen...?" he guessed._

_"Yeah, actually," she replied, surprised but impressed. "All the stuff they keep locked away in here, generally."_

_"I think you're just what this band needs."_

_The scene changed again to a band meeting._

_"I dunno if we should let her join," Koschei said. "We don't even know her."_

_"She's cool, and she has good ideas," the Doctor said, as if that settled it. "Could take us in a good direction."_

_"Does she even go here?" Koschei pressed. "She's not in any of our classes."_

_"This school is the size of a city, Kos. You make a pretty big assumption that she'd be in one of our classes or that she'd show up even if she was."_

_"I say we vote her in," a dark-skinned girl said. "Her vocals are good, we could use that."_

_"See, Vita's on board," the Doctor said. "What about you, Edie?" He looked inquisitively at a small blonde girl._

_She looked up timidly. "Uh, I uh..." She sort of half-glanced at the Master. "I'm with Kos."_

_"That's just because you've got a crush on him," Vita said, scathingly. "Come on, the girl's good, she's in."_

_"I, uh, yeah I guess so..."_

_"It's settled, then," the Doctor said._

_The scene changed again. The Doctor had invited Ginger up to his dorm room to work on some songs. So far he'd just played some Earth music he'd borrowed from the library._

_"Studying anthropology gives me a good excuse to be near all this great art," she was saying. "But I have to admit that I hate the coursework. And all the people who study it, generally. No offense."_

_"None taken," he assured her. "So why do you hate it?"_

_"What's not to hate? A bunch of stuffy old professors encouraging the most condescending views of human culture. If I have to hear one more presentation about how early 2000s scene culture was a cheap knockoff of the goth resurgency of the 1970s and 80s-"_

_"You disagree with that theory?"_

_"Of course I do. It's complete bollocks, honestly. For once thing, goth didn't go anywhere if you really look, and emo and scene culture wasn't trying to emulate it. It was its own thing. The way people condescend talking about it like it was a cheap fad of attention-seeking children...it lacks empathy. Which is my whole problem with the way we think about human cultural studies - we lack real empathy, we only see it through our strict cultural lens."_

_He smirked, leaning back on the bed as he contemplated this. "'Bleeding heart and the soul of Miss Theresa...'" he mused._

_She picked up on this again. "You disagree?" she asked, electing to ignore it._

_"Not at all, actually. I'm just surprised to find someone who actually shares my opinion in this place." He sat up suddenly. "You want to go out some time? Maybe formally? Talk about this more over dinner?"_

_She laughed, clearly thinking he was mocking her. "Yeah. Right." She was dripping with sarcasm. "Like you'd actually want to date me. I've seen the people you hang round with."_

_"And you're different."_

_"Damn right I am. Got no redeeming qualities, me. Can't imagine what someone like you would see in me."_

_He shrugged. "Supernova, cherry cola-"_

_She tilted her head to the side, contemplating him. "What's with the Green Day references?" she finally asked. "Whenever you talk about me you go for that one song. Why? I'm not your little Youngblood, if that's what you're after."_

_"Ah," he grinned. "So you do understand."_

_"Not remotely," she replied, crossing her arms._

_"I do honestly agree with you about humans though," he said, deciding to drop the subject for now. "I think we waste too much time ascribing theories onto humanity instead of just asking them what they meant by things. It's all well and good for me to sit here in the city thinking emo and scene culture was a trivial attention seeking method instead of ignoring the culmination of events going on in the world around it. The world was looking to be a darker place and there was a sense of shattered innocence in teenagers at that time. In an increasingly polarized world, these kids were looking for a spark of individuality and working through their mental health issues. There's a tendency to dismiss counterculture efforts since our culture is so homogeneous. Which is rather a shame, because it sort of bugs me that individuality is so penalized."_

_She decided then and there that she liked him, even though she'd really rather not._

_"What?" he asked, seeing the curious look on her face._

_"Oh just..." She swallowed hard, trying to think of a way to phrase this that wouldn't give too much away._

_Koschei walked in at that moment. "Oh. Sorry." He wasn't happy at all to see that they had company. "Am I interrupting?"_

_"Only in the sense of always," Ginger replied, dryly._

_"You're sitting on my bed," he replied._

_"Well I wasn't about to sit on Theta's, now was I?" Ginger said. She smiled, turning back at him with a reference he'd understand. "He's a rough boy round the edges. Getting drunk and falling into hedges."_

_The Doctor grinned, liking her more and more. "She's my weakness, fuckin' genius."_

_They said the last line together. "Swear to God and I'm not even superstitious."_

_"Hate to kick you out," Koschei said. "But I kind of need to study."_

_"I'll walk you out," the Doctor said, getting up._

_The Doctor walked her out and as soon as they were out of earshot she leaned against the wall. "So..." Ginger said. "You and him?"_

_"Sometimes," the Doctor admitted. "Is that a problem?"_

_"Not for me. Looks like it is for him."_

_"We've been friends since we were first years, he'll get over it."_

_The Doctor and Ginger started running into each other more often. Mostly it was when she'd get caught doing something she shouldn't be doing. He kept doing something infuriating - insisting on taking the fall or at the very least coming up with a convenient excuse to get her out of trouble._

_"Don't need your help," she'd grumble._

_"Yeah, yeah of course not," he'd reply._

_One night Koschei discovered his key card was missing and the Doctor instantly knew where to look for it. He met Ginger in the restricted section, browsing some Hole records._

_"You really like the Earth music, don't you?" he asked, startling her._

_"It's better than the stuff we have here," she admitted._

_"I get the feeling you don't like it here any more than I do."_

_"It's stuffy, boring, too strict."_

_"Yeah, you aren't really one for following rules and doing things logically, are you?"_

_"Never cared much for rules and logic, no."_

_"So listen," he replied. "Got some Grackenvite Venom on me. Also some Faeruskan Purple Mushrooms. I hear that makes an interesting combination. I know you said you don't really do this stuff in front of people, but I hardly count as people..."_

_"True," she smiled. "You do make a compelling argument. Alright. Sure. I'm game."_

_She got high with him and watched some old Earth movie called V for Vendetta._

_"They don't usually let students watch this one," the Doctor explained. "You can only check it out if you're higher level and you've proven in your coursework that you'll look at it through a Gallifreyan lens."_

_"So naturally you gamed the system by writing what they wanted to hear so you can watch it? I respect that. I've never been able to keep my mouth shut. I can't pretend to have an opinion I don't have - it makes me feel like drinking bleach. So you have a thing for dystopia?"_

_"I'm kinda of the opinion that everyone always lives in one, to varying degrees. It's good to watch fiction about it so you can remember that it isn't okay."_

_"Bleak. I like that."_

_"People generally don't. But you're different." He reached for his Green Day reference. "Are you stranded like I'm stranded? Do you wanna watch the world fall to pieces?"_

_She chuckled to herself. "Yeah, sounds like a date."_

_A short pause. "...Really-?"_

_"Don't push it," she said, firmly. Another short pause. "_ _I like this Natalie Portman. I've seen her in-"_

_"Star Wars?"_

_"Ew, no," she said, surprising him. "Mars Attacks."_

_"What, really?" he asked, looking at her in surprise._

_She shrugged. "I've seen that one about a million times. But watching this movie now I know it really didn't use her to its full potential."_

_"What do you like about Mars Attacks?"_

_"I just like goofy Earth portrayals of non-earthlings in general," she admitted. "I've always sort of felt like an alien, even to my own species..."_

_"Yeah, me too," he admitted._

_"You? But everyone likes you." She rolled her eyes. Then she latched back on to their old song reference. "Are you broken like I'm broken?"_

_"Doubtful," he replied, somewhat seriously. "I was diagnosed autistic."_

_"Seriously?" she asked, finally looking at him._

_"It's not a big deal-"_

_"No it is. Because I was too. That's part of my whole...thing. I liked human artifacts too much, didn't want to talk to actual people."_

_"That was exactly my problem!" he replied, surprised but suddenly excited._

_"I don't know if I see it as a problem..." she said._

_"No, definitely not. Not a problem, just..."_

_But they were very high and couldn't quite finish that thought._

_"What were we talking about?" the Doctor asked, starting to laugh._

_"I dunno..." she giggled back. "Probably aliens. I'm always talking about aliens." They realized then that they were sitting very close to each other. They were just about to kiss when they got caught by the teachers._

_"A student reported his key card missing," the head teacher said, when the two of them were sat in front of him in his office. "We looked into the matter and I think you must be behind a string of thefts going back several months."_

_"So you've figured it out," the Doctor said, starting to come down but still having too much fun. "I knew it was a mistake bringing the girl in on it. She's too obvious. Not a very good thief." He glanced to the side to see that Ginger was absolutely furious with him._

_"Your marks in classes are high enough that we'll let you off with a warning," the head teacher told the Doctor. "But this is your last one. As for her. You don't attend your classes, you're always in some sort of scrape and now I find you with illicit substances on my campus. I'm afraid I'm left with only one course of action. You'll have to come before a disciplinary tribunal tomorrow to decide if you can continue to study here."_

_They left the head teacher's office._

_"Why do you keep taking the fall for me?" Ginger hissed, furious at him. "I'm doing everything I can-"_

_"To get expelled?" he asked, curious but not angry. "Yeah I'd picked up on that. You keep doing very obvious things to get kicked out. Figured it must be on purpose."_

_"So why won't you let that happen?"_

_"Because I don't want you to leave. It's much more interesting having you here."_

_"Why are you even here? This place drives you mental just like it does me. I can see it."_

_"I want to graduate. Finally pass my driving test and get off this rock. Isn't that why you came here?"_

_"It is," she admitted. "But I can't take all the rules. Think I might just stowaway somewhere."_

_"So you really want to leave. There isn't anything at all keeping you here?"_

_"Is there anything keeping you here?" she echoed. "No, I'm serious. You're not happy, so why don't you just leave?"_

_He couldn't think of a proper response to that. "So what will you do with your last night before they inevitably kick you out?"_

_"Personally...I'm planning a heist. You in? Think carefully, because if you involve yourself in this one you can't come back."_

_He thought about this. "Yeah, what are we stealing?"_

_She smiled. "Well, now that this is a two person job we may not have to stowaway...How close are you to passing that driving test?"_

_The Doctor stole his TARDIS and met Ginger outside of the library. She'd swiped yet another key card and figured there wasn't a lot of time left before they got caught._

_He opened the door to the TARDIS to let her in. "Are you restless?" he asked, reaching for their favorite song reference._

_Her whole face lit up. "Fuck you, I'm from Oakland." Then she dropped the reference entirely. "Help me with these boxes."_

_"What are we stealing?" he asked._

_"Everything," she replied. "At least from the Earth section. These stuffy old fools don't deserve to have Fiona Apple if they're going to keep her locked up out of sight. It's like the Earthlings always used to say-"_

_"Free Fiona," the Doctor said at the same time as her. She stopped in her tracks and just looked at him. She shouldn't be surprised that he knew about the Free Fiona Movement, but somehow she was. How did he always know everything?_

_She reached for another box. "Come on, help me," she said, trying to suppress a grin._

_"Gladly."_

_They stuffed as many boxes into the TARDIS as they could before swinging the doors closed._

_"You know how to fly this thing?" Ginger asked._

_"I've failed three times, so I ought to have it down by now." He smiled. "But there is something I do know how to do..." He pressed a few buttons and their song started playing._

_She kissed him, then, unable to stop herself. "Allons-y," she said, pulling away._

_Then the TARDIS groaned and shuddered. The music stopped. The doors swung open and they looked towards them just in time to see the enlarged face of a man who was laughing maniacally._

_"Oh, I think I ruined it," the Doctor said, frowning. He and Ginger were both suddenly adults again. "It's hard to lucid dream in another person's head, sometimes your own guilt bleeds through...Sorry about that."_

_"No, this is mine," Ginger replied, trembling a bit. "It's the laughing man, the one I told you about. He's been in my dreams since I was a kid. I hallucinated him one time - everyone I knew turned into him while I was high. But he's not real."_

_"What?" Now the Doctor was confused and a little alarmed. "No he's real...Or he was real. Ginger, we need to wake up now."_

_"Agreed."_

They both bolted upright on the bed and he put his arms around her out of instinct as she buried herself in his chest. She was very visibly shaken, as she always was after a nightmare.

"It's alright, you're safe, you're awake," he soothed her.

"I know, I know," she whispered. "You're here. It didn't even get far enough to get really bad. God, though...I can feel one of my migraines coming on..."

He pulled her away so that he could look at her. "Ginger, how do you know the Master?"

"The Master?" she asked, perplexed by the question. "I don't. Oh." She had a sudden thought. "Koschei. Your friend. Of course, you told me that's who he grows up to be. I'm sorry about that."

"Ginger, this is important. Focus. How do you know him?"

"I...don't? Why do you keep asking me that?"

"The laughing man. In your nightmares. That's the Master. The latest version of him, anyway."

"That's...impossible. No way. That's just a bad dream, I don't know who he is."

And he knew she was telling the truth and she was really just as baffled as he was.

"Come on," he said, getting out of bed. "I don't think I can do more sleeping tonight. I'll make you a hot chocolate."


	45. Better Version of Me

The silence dragged on while they sipped their hot chocolate.

"He's real?" Ginger finally asked, avoiding his gaze. "The man I've been dreaming about for 24 years...is real?"

"Yes," the Doctor said, contemplating her.

"He really didn't like me," Ginger said. "Kosch...The Master."

"He wouldn't," the Doctor replied. "He didn't have a problem with me seeing other people - he saw other people too. But if it was ever serious, he got threatened and...didn't like it."

She looked up at him sharply. "Serious? Define serious. You don't think this is-"

"No, no, of course not," the Doctor said quickly. "I was just saying...He liked being the center of attention for me. He was always fine with Vita until I married her."

"Vita? The girl in the band?"

"My first wife," he said. "We didn't get together until what I suppose you'd call our junior year at the academy. At the time I showed you in the dream, she was just my bandmate. No feelings there yet."

"What happened to her?"

The Doctor appeared pained by the question. "She died. There was a disease going around, infecting Time Lords. Deadly if you couldn't catch it in time, and no way to immunize. If you were cured of it, you couldn't get it again."

"And she caught it?"

"We both did. I survived."

"I'm sorry. She seemed lovely."

"She was."

There was a short pause. "I liked your version of our story better. You were right, that was much more realistic. I liked your whole Daredevil vibe."

"I gave off a Matt Murdock vibe?"

She laughed. "No, I'm not talking Marvel Daredevil. I'm talking Fiona Apple Daredevil. You know...'Look at me! I'm all the fishes in the sea!"

"You make me sound like such an attention seeker!"

"You _so _were!" She sighed, heart almost aching. "I wish that had been our life. That would've been..."

"Yeah," he breathed. "But still. I wouldn't trade the life I've had for anything. I've had so much in my life, even if some of it has been painful. I guess I was wrong about my life not being any different if we'd met sooner. I wouldn't've married Vita, had our kids and grandkids...I didn't actually steal the TARDIS until I was much older, you know. So as much as I would've loved that to be our life...I wouldn't trade the other people I've had in this one. Not for anything."

He said this in a way that meant he obviously expected Ginger to agree with him, so she changed the subject. "So why has the Master been in my dreams all my life?"

"I don't know. That's what's troubling me. Cora said..." He stopped himself.

Ginger picked up on this hesitation. "Hm? What did Cora say?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just...she said it wasn't a coincidence. The person you remind me of sometimes. She said that's not a coincidence."

Ginger remembered their fight from days earlier. "And you sometimes say I remind you of the Master."

"Yes."

"But what could that mean?"

"I don't know. But it's worrying, whatever it is."

...

The Doctor awoke the next morning with a lot on his mind. He rolled over to check on Ginger, but was surprised to find that he was alone. He went looking for her and soon found himself following music as if it was a trail of breadcrumbs that Ginger had left behind. He found her in the kitchen in front of the stove. She was singing along to Fiona Apple.

_"I am likely to miss the main event_   
_If I stop to cry or complain again_   
_So I will keep a deliberate pace_   
_Let the damned breeze dry my face_   
  
_Oh, mister, wait until you see_   
_What I'm gonna be_   
  
_I've got a plan, a demand and it just began_   
_And if you're right, you'll agree_   
  
_Here's coming a better version of me!"_

The Doctor leaned against the doorway, unable to stop himself from grinning. "You seem unusually chipper," he said.

She stopped midway through cracking an egg. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," he admitted. He gestured to the kitchen, which was in a state of disarray. "What...what're you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked.

"If I had to guess...You're practicing for your career as a mad scientist?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm making breakfast. Obviously." She turned back to the pan.

"You're making breakfast," he said slowly. "Why?"

"I wanted to do something nice. Can't I do something nice?"

"Strictly speaking...no."

She glanced over her shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow. "I can be plenty nice to you."

"Didn't say you couldn't," he said. "This is just different from your normal brand of nice. Did you start the song over?"

"What? No. I've got it on repeat."

She turned her back to grab her bowl full of mix and he took the opportunity to move forward and lower the heat on the stove. "Why?"

She turned around and nearly bumped into him. She smiled patiently. "Because it's inspiration." She began ladling mix into the pan. "Starting today, I'll be a better version of me. I'll even cook breakfast. Now where'd I put those chocolate chips?" She turned around to find them. 

"You didn't put the chocolate chips in the mix?" he asked.

"Forgot," she shrugged. "_Someone _distracted me." She located the chocolate chips and turned around to find him flipping the pancakes. "For God's sake, Doctor! Now I can't put the chocolate chips in! Oh well, it'll have to do, I suppose. I'll just stick em on top."

"Sorry," he said, moving out of the way so she could come back to the stove. She raised the temperature back to where she had it before he interfered. "But you know you don't have to be any different than you are? I like who you are. You don't have to go all this trouble to prove anything."

"There's always room for improvement," she said, moving away from the stove to grab the bacon. In the meantime, the pancakes completely caught fire. A large plume of fire rose from the pan and he got to work frantically trying to put it out. He managed to put it out just in time for her to turn around and catch him. She was completely oblivious to the fact that the kitchen had just nearly been ablaze. "Doctor, what are you doing?" She put her hands on her hips. "Look, they're all ruined now! _Stop helping_!"

"Hey, here's an idea," he said. "What if I make breakfast?"

"You always make breakfast," she said. 

"Yes but I enjoy cooking," he said. "I was sort of under the impression that you don't. Let me do this."

She reluctantly handed over her spatula. "Fine. But I _can _do it, you know."

"Never said you couldn't," he replied. 

_But I thought it, _he finished in his head.

...

He suggested they go to a nice jazz club he knew about in the Nexule Galaxy.

"You're going to like this," the Doctor said as they settled at a table. "Trixal Trell is one of the foremost pioneers of Klebrian Industistrial Trash Cabaret."

"I understood...some of those words," Ginger replied. "But alright. I'll give it a try."

Just then the MC stepped up to the mic. "I'm sorry, folks, but Trixal Trell has come down with food poisoning and won't be able to perform tonight." He had to shout this next part to be heard over the resounding boos. "We do have backup entertainment, of course. Tonight's headliner has assured us that she knows she's not well known this far from her home world, so she's going to cover some of Earth's greatest hits to get us started tonight."

"Oh this ought to be good," the Doctor said.

"You wanna make it a game?" Ginger asked. "We count how many we know and whoever gets the most points wins. Bet you 20 quid I can get more than you."

"I like those odds," he replied.

"Without further ado," the MC said. "I present to you...The Queen of Hearts."

Ginger and the Doctor both sat up straighter.

"Wait," Ginger said. "You don't think-"

"Cupid warned us about a Queen of Hearts on Valentines Day," the Doctor replied. "I'd almost forgotten. 'Beware the Queen of Hearts.' It could be a coincidence. It _is _a well-known reference."

The music had begun.

"Well I already get one point," Ginger said. "I'd know that song anywhere, even if this cover is different. That's 'Supervixen' by Garbage. Whoever she is, she's got good taste."

The lights came up center stage, and both of them were stunned to see who the Queen of Hearts really was.

"You would say that, wouldn't you?" the Doctor teased, trying to pretend not to be as stunned as he really was.

The Queen of Hearts looked exactly like Ginger, just with better hair and makeup. She was wearing a skin-tight red dress and black leather boots. She had on her head a circlet that appeared to be made of barbed wire.

_"Come down to my house_   
_Stick a stone in your mouth_   
_You can always pull out_   
_If you like it too much..."_

"It's...me," Ginger said, stunned. "Or someone who looks like me." She turned to the Doctor, adopting an English accent. "What the hell, Fee? Did I have a twin sister?"

He was staring at the stage absently, but was still able to complete the quote. "Well, now, when you're a poor little orphan foster wretch, anything's possible."

Ginger felt strangely threatened suddenly. "You know it's a good point, though," she said, in her regular Scottish accent. "Is this like an Orphan Black thing? Is it a Clonespiracy?"

"I...don't know," the Doctor admitting, tearing his attention away. "I doubt it, actually." Then he smiled at Ginger. "Do that Sarah Manning voice again, I liked that."

She felt more secure now that he was teasing again, so she smiled back. "You don't think this is the version of me that we saw at the Festival, do you? Under the willow tree?"

"That's very possible..." the Doctor said, rummaging through his pockets. "Even if improbable."

Ginger actually became quite surprised because this Queen of Hearts wasn't just doing a unique cover of the album version of the song, but she was mixing in lyrics from the early demo mix.

_"Come my way_

_You barely recognize my face today_

_You never dreamed that I could be this way_

_You got so lucky and I've got to say_

_You're not the only one..."_

The Queen of Hearts hopped off the stage and pulled a man in the front row down to dance with her. The Doctor realized it was another version of him. He found his 3D glasses in his pocket.

"That's...you," Ginger said, turning to him when she realized. Then she smiled. "I like the new accessory, that's cute. You carry those around all the time?"

The Doctor nodded, but more to himself than to her as he confirmed his suspicion. "Here, take these," he said to her, handing them over.

"Oh I don't think I could," Ginger said, holding the glasses in her hand. "I don't even go to 3D movies because I hate having to put them on over my glasses."

"Just trust me, will you?"

She sighed and decided to go along with it. She put them on over her glasses, and he pointed back towards the stage. "Now look at them."

"What's...that stuff floating all 'round them?" she asked, squinting.

"Void stuff," the Doctor replied. "These aren't clones or future versions of us. They _are _us. From another universe. You were right."

"I thought you said it was impossible to cross over from another universe," she said, suddenly alarmed.

"It should be," he replied. "I don't know where they're from or how they got here."

The show continued on. This alternate Ginger played only one other Garbage song (a rendition of "I Think I'm Paranoid" where she used the live lyric "You can never leave me"). 

"This'll be my final song of the evening," she said, just as a dark piano melody began. "I'm sorry, I know, normally I'd do a longer show. But I'm afraid I've got a prior appointment."

"Oh," Ginger said. "I love this song."

_"Come say hello to me_   
_When you're in town_   
_(When you're in town)_   
_I know you're crazy about me_   
_And want me around_   
_You move in closer_   
_When you should run away_   
_A little rabbit in my hunting game_   
_And I got perfect aim_

_What a sad, sad world it is_   
_When we take pleasure in others' demise_   
_In what a sad, sad world we live_   
_We push down others to stay alive_

_Flattery is being dear to you_   
_As any flesh and blood would_   
_You say you'd be good to me_   
_Well, so you should_

_I'm not that girl anymore_   
_She ran away_   
_Now I'm the one with the game_   
_And I won't be played_

_In what a sad, sad world we live_   
_When we'd be lying, spinning our lies_   
_In what a sad, sad world we live_   
_We kick and spit just to stay alive..."_

"I don't think I actually know this one," the Doctor said, having to admit that he was both intrigued and a little concerned by the subject matter.

"It's Amy Studt," Ginger said. "You should really listen to this album, it's incredible."

The tempo of the song changed, the mood getting sadder as the lights went down to show the alternate Ginger just by a single spotlight. Where before she'd been self-possessed and a little wicked, now she seemed haunted and sad.

_"_ _But when it comes that I get tired of games_

_Will you still be around_

_I think you know that when the light is shined below_

_Then you will see_

_The monster that I am_

_You will run away_

_They always do_ _..."_

The Doctor glanced over at his Ginger, who was looking towards her feet with a despondent look in her eyes. He reached out towards her to take her hand, but then the music picked up again and she snapped herself out of it. He pretended he hadn't been doing anything.

_"I might keep you around_   
_If you behave (if you behave)_   
_I like you crawling,_   
_My little boy slave_

_What a sad, sad world it is_   
_When we're excited for somebody's pain_   
_In what a sad, sad world we live_   
_I'm in the middle, I'm not afraid..."_

The song ended and Ginger took a bow. She hopped off the stage to her Doctor in the front row, giving him a kiss.

The Doctor was disturbed by one detail. "Is that...is that how you want me to dress?" he asked, noting how his doppelganger was dressed head to toe in tight leather.

"No," Ginger said, hurriedly. Then she thought about it. "I mean...no. Definitely not. Too disturbing. Hang on...is he wearing my leather trench coat? I have that exact one..."

The other Ginger said goodbye to her Doctor and sent him backstage. 

"Aw hell," Ginger said, as the doppelganger started moving toward them. "Here she comes, a better version of me..."

The other Ginger stopped at their table and sat across from Ginger, staring at her with cold eyes. "Enjoy the show?" she asked.

"Whose benefit was that for, exactly?" Ginger asked, noncommittally. 

"Always my own gratification," said the doppelganger. "As it is for you. Don't tell me that when you do the movies or make your records, you're not being a tiny bit self indulgent."

"Movies?" Ginger asked.

"You know," the other Ginger said. "I mean, I'm sure you've made at least a few movies by this time. By the time I was your age, I'm sure I'd already at least done my tour as Ophelia. You must at least be working on your first album."

"Oh, yeah, of course, Ophelia," Ginger lied. "I just came from that." She was feeling more intimidated by the second.

"Look." The other Ginger's hand shot out and grabbed Ginger's wrist in an iron grip. "I know why you're here, why you've tracked me down. And let me just say the intimidation routine isn't working on me. You won't scare me off. So you run along now and forget all about this, understand?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ginger said, slowly.

The other Ginger rolled her eyes. "Don't play coy with me. I know you've tracked Cupid's memory crystals to Soho as well. Well I may not be his little pet, but that doesn't mean I won't find the location first. They're mine. I will have my answers. You might have an easier time finding them because your ears are tuned to this universe's frequency, but I'm older and smarter so they're mine. Now...Do. You. Understand. Me."

Ginger glared back at her. "I understand," she said, snatching back her hand.

The other Ginger was suspicious. "Good." She rose to her feet. "Because if I ever see you sniffing around for those memory crystals again, I'll kill you. And it'll be painful. I can make it last a long time."

"Wait just a moment," the Doctor interjected. "What're you-"

Ginger held up a hand to stop him. "You don't need to know everything, Doctor."

The other Ginger sized her up. "Hm. See, you're not any better than me. We're all the same really. Just stay out of my way."

The Doctor watched her walk away. "Ginger," he said. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know," she said.

"But you said you understand," he urged.

A slow smile crossed her face. "Oh Doctor, so sweet and so naive. Don't you know a bluff when you see one? I don't know what she's talking about but I'm damn excited to find out."

...

They returned to the TARDIS.

"I didn't trust that bitch for a minute," Ginger said. "I mean, she's me. She's gotta be untrustworthy. But I was still able to game her. She assumes I'm competent enough to know what was going on, so I let her keep talking. So, what do we know?"

"Nothing," the Doctor said.

"That's not true, that's not true!" Ginger said. "Cupid told us to beware her, and that makes sense now. Of course she picked that name, she's me. He was telling me to beware of myself, which is _entirely _fair. We always knew Cupid held more cards than he was letting on, but now we have proof."

"The memory crystals your doppelganger was talking about?" the Doctor asked.

"Exactly," Ginger said. "They have some kind of answer she needs, so we're going to find out first."

"Alright," the Doctor said, getting on board. "So we'll just contact Cupid and warn him off-"

"No!" Ginger said, stopping him before he could touch the controls. "No. We're not going to contact Cupid. We're going to find them ourselves."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because he doesn't tell us everything," Ginger said, bitterly. "It's time we go and find the answers on our own."

"Ginger," the Doctor said, slowly. "Has Cupid done something to upset you? You just seem..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Ginger said. "I want answers. I intend to get them before the other me can. Are you helping or not?"

"Of course. But how do we do that?"

"Were you even listening? She slipped up and said she tracked it to Soho."

"Soho," the Doctor said.

"I'm assuming she meant London," Ginger said. "It just seems like him."

"But how would we find the memory crystals in Soho? Go door to door?"

"I don't know. We'll figure it out as we go."

...

The Doctor and Ginger made their way to Soho and spent quite some time looking through the city.

"Are you sure about this?" the Doctor asked. "Or were there any other clues that could narrow this down? Maybe we should just ask Cupid-"

"No!" Ginger snapped. "I'll figure this out on my own. I've always done alright on my own, never needed his help."

"Think, then," the Doctor said. "Is there anywhere in Soho it's more likely to be?"

"I don't know him at all," Ginger said. "How should I..." She stopped. "Can you hear that?"

He couldn't. "Hear what?" he asked.

"SHHHHH," she replied. "I'm concentrating."

"But what do you hear?" he asked.

"I can't describe it," she whispered. "It's a sound, but it isn't."

"Or it could be something your brain is processing as sound," the Doctor offered.

"Could be," Ginger replied. She turned toward the noise and found herself looking at an abandoned bookshop. "Here."

"Here?" the Doctor asked. "You're sure?"

She nodded. "Didn't she say something about my ears? Maybe this is what she meant? Come on."

The Doctor hung behind for a second. "I'm not sure about this."

Ginger stopped and looked back at him. "Well, I am. Are you going to let me go alone?"

He still hesitated, then sighed. "This is _peer pressure_. You're _peer pressuring _me." He hurried to catch up with her.

"Yes, and apparently I'm good at it," she smiled. They reached the top of the stone steps. She held out her hand to him.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"To help you feel less scared," she teased. She rolled her eyes. "I dunno. I want you to come with me, but I know somehow - call it instinct - that if we go any further I'll have to take you with me."

"What does that mean?"

She shrugged. "I don't know exactly. I think we're about to go somewhere and you have to be touching me to get in."

"Well you didn't need to make up an excuse," the Doctor teased. He took her hand.

She smiled then took a deep breath. "Alright. Groovy." 

They stepped forward together, and it was as if a curtain had parted and passed through them. Suddenly they weren't on the front steps of a derelict bookshop, they were in a well-furnished circular room with a fire glowing in the grate.

The Doctor noted that Ginger was strangely calm. "I think we just _stepped through _a _dimensional barrier," _he said.

"Yes," Ginger said. "I didn't know it until you said it, but that's what happened. Of course it is."

"We shouldn't be able to do that!" the Doctor said. "Not without some sort of mechanism!"

"Doctor, you're fixating too hard on this," Ginger said. "I don't need to know how right now. Cupid could be back at any moment."

They began looking around. "I don't think this is a full fledged universe," the Doctor said.

"What gives you that impression?" Ginger replied.

"If I had to guess at where we are just going by the windows, I'd say Wales," he explained. "But look closer."

Ginger came to the window. "They're painted on. And backlit."

"The fire in the grate is an illusion as well," the Doctor said. "And I expect if I did this..." He pulled on a door, but it stayed shut. "It doesn't go anywhere. There's nothing out there."

"Maybe it's locked?"

"No key hole." He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and took readings. "This seems to be some pocket dimension, built into the thin fabric of our universe."

"Oh like that weird one in Fringe?" Ginger asked.

"This is better built," the Doctor said. "This is deliberate. I can't imagine how Cupid pulled this off."

"Well that narrows it down then," Ginger said. "If the memory crystals are here, then there aren't any other rooms to look in."

They got back to looking, tearing the room apart in their search. The Doctor found a box in a corner that he was very interested in. It was full of hand-written pages in a child's writing.

"Who's Ruby Fell?" the Doctor asked.

Ginger looked up sharply. "What?" She saw what he was holding. "Put that back."

"But what is it?" the Doctor asked. He went through the rest of the box. "There are lots of stories like this. If I had to guess, they're some sort of fan-fiction?"

"It's not relevant," she said, venom dripping from every word. "You can burn that for all I care."

"You didn't write these?" the Doctor asked. "I recognize some of these phrases...It just _sounds _like you..." He looked at her face. "Why does Cupid have all of these?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said. "He's not who he says he is."

"He doesn't say he's anyone," the Doctor said.

"Exactly. I don't want to talk about him. I want to find the memory crystals...Do you hear that?"

"I think we can safely assume that you're the only one hear who speaks parseltongue," the Doctor said under his breath.

Ginger moved toward an old record player in the corner. "Funny, because it _is _like voices..."

"I don't hear anything," the Doctor said. "But traditionally, if you're the subject of a memory crystal then they call out to you. So you may be onto something."

Ginger opened the door on the bottom of the record player and the voices stopped. She frowned. "They're just a bunch of records," she said, pulling out a few see-through plates in the shape of vinyl records.

"No that's what we're looking for," the Doctor said. "Cupid's just fashioned the memory crystals into records for some reason..."

"There aren't a lot of them," Ginger said. She peered at them in disappointment. "You don't think the records on that stack over there are also memory crystals?"

"Only one way to find out."

They pulled every record out of their sleeves, finding that they were all carefully preserved memory crystals.

"But what do we do with them?" Ginger asked. "They're not exactly telling me anything."

"What do you think?" the Doctor asked. "What does one do with a record?"

Ginger's eyes fell on the record player. "You _play _them."

"But which one first?" the Doctor asked.

Ginger closed her eyes, listening. She selected one and put it into the record player. The record player acted as a sort of projector, sending an image onto the wall behind it.

_A scrawny red-haired girl of no older than 10 was sitting on a chair against a wall._

_"What are you writing?" It was a man's voice. American, by the sound of it. _Ginger reacted to it, suppressing a gasp and putting a finger to her lips.

_The red-haired girl didn't look up. "A Harry Potter story," she said._

_"Say it in an accent, pumpkin," the man, who still could not be seen, said._

_The girl sighed and put down her pen. She looked up defiantly, with eyes that the Doctor would know anywhere. "Why do I always have to talk in an accent?"_

_"It's good for your training," the man replied. "Go on. Dealer's choice."_

_The girl sighed sullenly. "Issa 'Arry Pottah story, innit?"_

_The Doctor chuckled along with the man in the memory. "Almost right," the man said. "Still a bit too thick. It's like the Dick Van Dyke version of what an English accent is. This is why we work on it. What's your story about?"_

"I remember this," Ginger said. "I haven't thought about this in a long time..."

The Doctor could see that she was close to crying. "Ginger," he said slowly. "What is this?"

Ginger steeled herself and took the needle off the record. "Never mind. Let's get these back to the TARDIS." She shoved it back in a sleeve and started gathering the rest up. He got to work helping her.

"Hold on to me," Ginger said once they had them all. The Doctor had his hands full so he awkwardly linked arms with her. Ginger found the point where they'd come through and they stepped through.

...

Cupid reached the bottom step of the bookshop just in time to see Ginger and the Doctor come through. Ginger saw him and her eyes filled with anger.

"What are you doing?" Cupid asked, noting their cargo.

"Getting answers," Ginger snapped. "You won't ever give me any, so I'll get them myself!"

"You can't do that," Cupid said. "You're not ready-"

"Don't tell me I'm not ready," she fumed, voice shaking. "I decide when I'm ready! Not you! I'm so sick of not knowing what's happening!"

Then everything went black.

...

The Doctor woke up in a cell and immediately bolted upright, struggling against his restraints.

"Ginger?"

"She's not here," Cupid said. "And shouting will do you no good. Save your energy."

He looked to his left to see Cupid was chained to the wall next to him. The Corsair was slumped against a wall nearby.

"The Corsair has been in a coma since last night," Cupid said. "She wasn't able to cope with everything going on in her brain. She'll be better eventually."

"But why are we here?" the Doctor asked.

"I imagine it has something to do with my memory crystals," Cupid said. "Who put you up to that? You didn't learn of them on your own."

Everything came flooding back to him. "Oh. I'm sorry about that."

"It's not your fault," he replied. "She has a right to be upset with me and you can't help but indulge her."

...

Ginger awoke to find herself tied to a chair.

"Don't try struggling, punkin'," the other Ginger said. "Those are magnetic restraints. Thanks for bringing me the memory crystals, by the way. Couldn't've done it without you. My God, was I really this dumb when I was young?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The memory crystals," the other Ginger said. "I literally couldn't've done it without you. You can hear the vibrations from this universe. I can't. I knew the pocket dimension was in Soho somewhere, but I'd never be able to get in without invitation. You, being the favorite child, had a standing one. I knew you wouldn't trust me and would try to game me, so I gamed you right back. You brought them out for me. If I could quote Dark Helmet: Come on man! I can't believe you fell for the oldest trick in the book!"

Ginger did feel stupid, but she was determined not to show it. "So what do you need them for?"

"I need answers," the other Ginger said. "Just like I said. Don't you?"

"We could share answers-"

"Even if I trusted you, I wouldn't. You're too young, it's too dangerous."

"I've seen you before," Ginger said. 

The other Ginger looked at her with interest. "Have you?"

"Yeah. Once before. At the Fair. Underneath the willow tree. You looked right at me. You _saw _me..."

Ginger watched as the expression on her doppelganger's face changed. "That was you? Standing under the willow tree? He had his hand around your wrist..."

"Yeah," Ginger said. "As I remember it, you and your Doctor were getting a bit...intimate."

"It really was you," she breathed. "The different one. I was beginning to think I'd imagined you. You were impossible."

"There was no way you could see me," Ginger said. "It didn't make sense."

"It scared me," they both said.

"300 years," the doppelganger said, shaking her head. "And here you are."

"300 years?" Ginger repeated. "It hasn't been that long for me."

"Fascinating," the other Ginger said. "Out of all the universes, I wonder why we were the ones to see each other."

"Maybe you were just the only one to look up," said Ginger. "I mean, you did seem a little...busy."

The other Ginger raised her eyebrows. "And you weren't?"

"Not until recently," she admitted. "Like I said, you scared me. I wasn't ready for all that."

"You needed to be different," the other Ginger said bitterly. "Special. Not that I don't understand the need to stand apart, but it does highlight how frustratingly young you are. And I know you were lying to me. I looked you up, I'm not stupid. You haven't accomplished anything. Figures. No Ginger has ever accomplished what I have."

"What do you want from me?" Ginger demanded. "You've got your memory crystals, you should just go."

"I've got to be sure you're strong enough."

"Strong enough for what?"

"Strong enough to defend what's yours. Because she's coming, don't ever think that she isn't. This security is false."

"Who?" Ginger asked. 

"They'll just say I'm mad," the Queen said. "She's dead, they keep saying she's dead and gone...but I know better. I know better."

...

"I made a mistake," Cupid said. "I don't blame any of them for being upset with me. I should've tried harder to protect them. But I'm a coward."

"She's different," he said. "This doppelganger. She has old eyes."

"She's been around a lot longer," said Cupid. "She's been through some things she shouldn't've...but then again, they all have...Believe me when I say we're all in trouble. She's unpredictable and dangerous. Worst of all, she's desperate. Paranoia and desperation don't mix. She's lost her grip on reality, which isn't surprising because her reality is gone." Cupid closed his eyes. "I've never lied to you. But I haven't told you the whole truth. And I'm not going to start now."

"I kind of figured that," the Doctor said.

"I can't tell you what she is," Cupid said. "I told you it's because it's unfair for you to know first, and that's true. I told you it's because it's dangerous, and that's true. But I also can't tell you because you can't know yet. It'll start you thinking too much about your own life, and that's not good for you. It's too distracting. You need to be focused."

"I just want to know what you know," the Doctor said. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you'd just tell us."

"You'd be in a worse one if you knew, trust me. Or don't. It makes no difference at this point."

"What's the end game here?"

"With the doppelganger? Who knows. We could be lucky and she's just interested in your girl. Gingers tend to be massively competitive with each other. Or we could be massively unfortunate and she's trying to find out if I lied. As if I'm foolish enough to back that up on a memory crystal."

"But why have them at all?"

"The memory crystals are objective. Once recorded, they're unchanging. I want a perfect record of the good times, unmarred by the bad."

The Doctor understood. "That was you. The man's voice in the memory crystal. It didn't sound like you."

"I'm a very accomplished actor, but you'd never know it. I'm not exactly accredited. It was never my passion. I preferred to sit in the wings. The Gingers, they just...they shine. When you put them on a stage, they're so very bright and so very talented."

"I've noticed."

"You ever notice just how peculiarly alike you two are?"

"I'm not much of a performer."

"That's not what I mean. You two are so very lonely. You have darkness within you that you're desperate to keep hidden from the world and you punish yourselves for it. That theatre booth was her telephone box - her vantage point to look over the little world she could control. Cut off from the world. You both started out being lonely on accident, but at a certain point you figured it was easier. You never take credit for all the good you do, because neither of you ever believe you're good enough."

"I can't say I ever noticed that, no."

"I meant what I said before. She does love you terribly. I didn't say all that I meant though. Before I knew of you two, I thought I wanted that perfect love. I ached for it. A perfect match. But then I saw you. I saw all that you become. And I realized that it's a terrible thing to love something that much. Nobody should ever love somebody to destruction."

"But you've spent all this time putting us together. Why do that if you thought it was so terrible?"

"Because it could be beautiful."

"But from what I understand, you've never seen it be beautiful."

"You don't understand nearly as much as you think you do. This is by design. You don't get that the point, the fundamental point, is that the outcome could be different. But even if it isn't, she doesn't get anything else. I've dedicated the last few centuries of my life to Gingers all over the multiverse, trying to get a happy ending for even one of them. It hasn't happened. So if this all goes up in smoke, it'll still be worth it."

"How? If they won't get a happy ending?"

"Because if they don't have a happy beginning or end, at least they'll have a happy middle. They always end up sad later, but they're happy now. You don't understand what a gift now is. That's why they call it a present."

"Why does she have dreams about the Master?"

He finally looked at the Doctor, surprise evident on his face. "How do you know this?"

"I walked into her dreams last night," the Doctor said. "Impolitely, if I might add."

"She allowed this?" Cupid asked. "A certain amount of consciousness sharing is expected for you two, but if she allowed you into her actual dreamscape, that's unprecedented."

"It was quite lovely in there," the Doctor said. "Not nearly as scary as I would've thought, it being her mind."

"That's highly unusual. Her mind should've looked at you as a foreign invader and fought you off. You say you saw the Master, though?"

"I did."

"And she's aware of all of this?"

"She is. We discussed it. She had no idea it was the Master who's been haunting her dreams."

"Time is unraveling," Cupid said. "That has no bearing on this conversation, but I'm afraid it's all I can safely tell you. At least for the moment, we're safely outside of the universe. Though safely might be the wrong choice of words..."

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked. "What do you mean _outside _the universe?"

"My dear Doctor," Cupid said. "You don't think we're really here together, do you? Look very closely. We're in multiple dimensional pockets, seamlessly woven together."

...

"Where are we, anyway?" Ginger asked. "I don't think this is a reality."

"I can make it reality whenever I choose," the other Ginger said. "I'm multitalented. Much more than any of the others were." Bitterness was dripping from her. "Much more than _you _are, because I've worked hard for it! I've gotten good! I've appeared in films! I've made platinum selling records! And what do you do? Nothing. I mean, you haven't even learned to amplify your natural gifts with Carrionite word magic! That's, like, basic kid stuff! And somehow you're the one who isn't a disappointment. Well newsflash, you're still young. You'll disappoint them in the end, just like we all do. You can pretend you're different from us, but at the end of the day...It's still you and him. Just like it always is. Stop struggling, for God's sake! You can't run from yourself, punkin. It's so cute that you try. Every time. We always try."

"I really don't know what's going on here. I don't know you."

"You don't know who you are," she smirked. "If that's not pure poetry."

"Pretentious, you mean."

"I just don't understand why you can't admit it."

"Admit what?"

"That you're in love with him, of course. All of this...it's all for him. Protecting him. Keeping him safe. You loved him since the day you first met him...but you resisted it. None of us ever resisted it. Why did you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"When I found out about you, you were nothing. You were still in denial, not even traveling full time. Cupid and the Corsair were toying with you as they always were, but you resisted for so very long from what I hear. I can't understand you. Now you finally get to be with him, as you should be. You still won't admit that you love him? Why?"

"Because I don't."

"You can't keep lying to yourself, punkin."

"You can't keep calling me 'punkin', punkin_." _She struggled uncomfortably. "Did you do something to my face? It feels itchy like it's burning up."

"Oh that. While you were out, I made some minor alterations to you. Don't be alarmed - nothing permanent. Just gave you a little makeover." She pushed a mirror into Ginger's face.

Ginger's hair had been straightened and copious amounts of makeup had been applied. Every imperfection had been smoothed out.

"I look more like you," Ginger said.

"You're welcome," the doppelganger said smugly.

"I don't like it," she replied. "I don't like foundation, it makes my skin crawl."

"It's not for you. It's for him. It's so you can keep his attention."

"Okay, that's even worse. I don't do anything for a man, not even him."

In her struggling, something came loose from under her shirt. The doppelganger noticed and eyed it with some interest.

"Uh...my eyes are up here?" Ginger said, creeped out.

"What's that?" her alternate asked, reaching out and snatching Ginger's necklace. "Is this a sour patch kid trapped in amber?"

Ginger was suddenly furious. "Give that back."

"Since when do we wear jewelry? Especially something this ugly."

Ginger summoned all her strength and broke one arm free of the restraints. She punched her alternate in the face and snatched her necklace back. "That's _mine."_

Her alternate laughed gleefully, suddenly understanding. "_He _gave that to you. Didn't he? You wouldn't care at all if it didn't come from him." Then she frowned. "He gave that to you." She motioned for a cyborg that Ginger hadn't noticed before to come out of the shadows. "Put stronger restraints on her this time. Never underestimate the fury of a Ginger. I think it's time to do what I do best: torture myself. Then the real games will begin."

"You know, I think I was wrong about you," Ginger cut in. "I thought you were better than me. On the surface, you were everything I ever wanted to be. But you're a stark raving loony."

She got a slap in the face for that one. "There it is," the doppelganger replied. "That self-righteousness you all have. Let me ask you something...In all of this, did you ever once tell him what you did? Did you tell him the whole story?" She smiled at Ginger's silence. "Of course you didn't. None of us ever do. We couldn't bear the look of horror and disgust that he'd wear if he ever found out. So you're not different, at least in that way. You can pretend to be better than us, but you still had to go through what that monster did to us."

"He got what he deserved," Ginger said, flatly.

"No he didn't, and you know it!" her doppelganger roared, becoming unhinged. "He didn't get what he _deserved_! He deserved to live, to rot, to answer for what he did to us! But since he died, he got away with it! He's remembered as the victim, and the whole world turned you into a monster! What's fair about that?"

"If you really believe that you did nothing wrong, then why are you still here punishing yourself?"

"I only care what my Doctor thinks of me," she said. "Nobody else matters. But you, for some reason, still have human contacts. Luckily, I pulled this phone off the Doctor..." She pulled it out of her pocket. "Had your little humans brought to me. You need to learn your lesson."

"If you hurt them-" Ginger threatened.

"You'll do what? You're still weak. You're all weak. You never do what is necessary, and that's why yours all die. You're too stupid to see that I'm going out of my way to help you." 

Ginger laughed derisively. "Is that so?"

"It is. But know this right now: If helping you endangers my Doctor in any way, I'm through. This is just me being generous."

"You can keep your generosity."

The doppelganger pressed a button to increase the magnetization on Ginger's restraints, prompting Ginger to squeeze her eyes shut and bite her lip to keep from calling out from the pain. Doppelginger stopped the torture after a moment and Ginger rested her head against the chair and glared at her with eyes filled with hatred. 

The doppelganger looked at her closely. "I really don't understand you. You want to pretend that you won't do absolutely anything for him. Just to keep feeling this way. But you need it. You can't go back to how it felt before. You remember how that felt, don't you? How alone you felt? You were so utterly alone that you couldn't recall feeling any other way, but now it's painful to think of going back there. The only time it doesn't hurt is when he's with you. Because he's gentle." Her voice became heavy and her eyes reflected a deep sorrow. "So very...very gentle. In everything he does. Nobody had ever touched you like that...And I don't just mean the sex. It's not where he touched you, it's how. It didn't hurt. It was almost too much the first time, even though it was just innocent. Back then it was just a hug, just a hand on a cheek...You didn't even kiss that time. But it was almost too much. Because it was gentle. And warm. And safe. It didn't hurt. You didn't know that touching didn't have to hurt. It was impossible to understand. No wonder we're all so addicted to anything that man does."

"It didn't happen like that," Ginger said softly. "Not exactly."

"But you felt it too?" Ginger didn't answer so the doppelganger smiled grimly. "Yes, of course you did. You did then and you still do."

"It never stops surprising me. I'll do anything so it won't go away."

The other Ginger looked at her with unreadable eyes. "Why?"

She shook her head, trying to clear it. "I don't know, I don't know..."

"You do know."

"This universe needs him-"

"Don't give me that," the other Ginger said, rolling her eyes. "Still think I can't see right through you. You love him. You need to admit that you love him. It's the only way you'll keep him."

"I don't-"

"Stop lying-"

"-understand how you can even think people like us are capable of love," Ginger finished.

The other Ginger's face filled with disgust. "Don't tell me you buy into that rubbish. Autistic people can love just fine - even better than most - and we're not defective."

"This isn't because of how we were born," Ginger said. "It's because of who we became. We're not defective, we're broken. If I ever needed more proof, then meeting you is evidence enough."

The other Ginger was suddenly full of barely disguised anger. "You don't know me."

"Oh really? A moment ago you were certain that we're all the same."

"Up to a point. We're diverging paths. You might be different, but you're still me from 300 years ago. I can read you like a book. _I'm the voice inside your head, you refuse to hear. I'm the face you have to face, mirrored in your stare. I'm what's left, I'm what's right. I'm the enemy. I'm the hand that will take you down, bring you to your knees. So who are you?_"

"God, don't you have any better references than that?" Ginger mocked. "I mean you could go full Alice in Wonderland on us, that's more in our wheelhouse, don't you think Queenie? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Trouble is, we all think we're different, don't we?" asked the Other Ginger. "And we all are, mostly. It always goes a different way. Some are more different than others. Outlying pieces of datum. You and me, definitely. _What if I say I'm not like the others? What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays? _Because I know who you are now. _You're the pretender."_

Ginger raised her eyebrows. "Oh _I'm _the pretender, you extension-wearing fake-punk try-hard Foo Fighter poser bitch? I mean, come on! Reach for a dated reference, sure, that's my jam. But you're scraping bottom of the barrel here. I know _I _can do better, so you _definitely _can. I mean what's all this for? You're like wicked hot. I'm cool enough to admit I briefly considered being jealous of you - not for your accomplishments, but because I thought the Doctor might like you better. Yeah, I was ready to go all Olivia Dunham there, except _infinitely _less understanding and definitely less weepy. But seeing you up close is like a revelation. How much makeup are you wearing, anyway?"

"What gives you the right to shame me for wearing makeup when you wear it too? I saw you before, remember? Those extensions were worse than mine."

"Yeah, but I'm honest about it. I'll be a character, but I get vibes you're just like this. The makeup isn't the problem, it's _why _you're doing it. I mean you're perfect and all hot and stuff. That takes effort. You're wearing _foundation, _which, if you're anything like me, makes you feel like clawing your skin off because it's so uncomfortable. But you're wearing it. If you were ever anything like me, you wore trashy makeup because you had fun with it. Now you're doing it just to be a hollowed-out perfect caricature of yourself? I bet that's what your career was for too. Had nothing to do with having fun anymore, you just wanted to be better than all of us. Prove that you deserved him more. You think you can read me? I can turn that right back on you, sis." The magnetism was increased once more and Ginger screamed. "What is _wrong _with you?"

"I need you to admit it," the doppelganger said. "I'm going to ask you one more time. Why won't you let the Doctor die?"

"Alright, okay? I can't let him die, because...because I can't fail him too. If he dies, that's it. It's one thing to carry guilt over all those people, but if I lose him and it's my fault, because you _know _it will be my fault...It'll destroy me. You just can't classify what we have. He's not my boyfriend, okay, he's better than that. He's so much more important."

The other Ginger smiled. "There. We're almost close to the truth, now, aren't we?"

...

The two pockets of reality containing his friends disappeared, as the door to the Doctor's cell opened. Ginger rushed in.

"Doctor!" she exclaimed, hugging him closely. "I was so afraid something happened to you! I only just got away!" She kissed him.

He pulled away at once. "You're not her."

"What? Of course I-"

"No, you're not. Don't play games with me."

She just looked irritated. "What gave it away?"

"You kiss differently than she does. Also she uses this face wash that makes her smell inexplicably like watermelon, and you smell like..." He was slightly disturbed as he realized this. "Rosewater?"

She made a face and jabbed him with a sedative. "You going to pretend that you don't like me smelling like roses?" 

"Where is she? If you've hurt her-"

"Shhhh shhh shh...don't worrry about her. You're always the priority. I won't let anything happen to you, I promised..."

...

The two Gingers sat in silence while the doppelganger played memory crystal after memory crystal, trying to find the answer she seeked.

"I remember all of this," she muttered in frustration. "But none of this is me. It's all _you_. The golden child. The one he raised."

_"You're quiet today,_ _" the voice on the tape was saying to the little girl who was sitting at the piano with a pensive look on her face. "Trouble at home again?"_

_"They're fighting again," the little girl said. "They're always fighting."_

_"What are they fighting about?"_

_"Me. Usually. I'm not good enough. That's why nobody ever adopts me."_

_"They said that?"_

_"I know that."_

_"What makes you think you're not good enough?"_

_"I fight all the time. Can't get along with anyone. And I'm stupid. Lazy."_

_"The fighting isn't your fault, you just need to learn to direct your anger properly. What makes you think you're stupid?"_

_She shrugged. "Can't make good grades."_

_"Grades don't measure intelligence."_

_"Can't make math make sense," she muttered._

_"Math is just a language like any other. You're good with languages."_

_"It doesn't make sense like those languages. Those are words. These are numbers."_

_"It's not your fault that you don't understand them. Some people just can't process numbers. It doesn't make you stupid."_

_"But I can't even get good grades in classes I understand."_

_"Grades don't measure intelligence," he repeated. "You're just a different kind of intelligence, one that can't be quantified by a system that wasn't built for you. But none of these things make you unworthy. You were born for the stage. Not many people have an aptitude for the kind of creativity I've seen from you..."_

The doppelganger turned to the side, and suddenly a dimensional pocket was open. Cupid gazed sadly out of it. "They were lovely times. I'm so sorry they had to end."

"You shut up!" the doppelganger snapped at him. "We're going to begin the test in a moment, and you will not interfere!" She turned to her henchmen. "Untie her."

"Oh that's gonna be your first mistake," Ginger said.

"No it isn't," the doppelganger said smugly. "Because your test is to save him." 

The reality they were in shifted, and she was standing near the edge of a cliff. 

Her eyes fell upon a man who was clearly swimming in and out of consciousness. "Doctor?" she cried. She tried to go to him, but the rocks shifted.

"This is your test," the doppelganger said. "Save the man you love. Prove that you'll do whatever it takes."

The first test was challenging, but not insurmountable. She plucked him from danger and held him to her as she sat on the rocky ground. 

"Ginger?" he asked blearily. "What...?"

"Shhhh," she replied. "You're alright."

He gazed at her, eyes open and honest. He touched her hair. "Ginger...you're so pretty."

She wasn't happy to hear that. Mostly because she resented the doppelganger's meddling in her appearance, but also because she had her own issues with being perceived as pretty. But before she had a chance to register this, he was plucked from her by the doppelganger's minions.

"Hey!" she shouted, getting to her feet. "Give him back!"

"That's right!" replied the doppelganger. "Protect what's yours!"

"He's not mine!" Ginger protested. "He's his own person and this isn't fair to him!"

"Right, right, sure," she rolled her eyes. "He's not yours the same way you're not his."

... 

Ginger was put through many scenarios in which she had to save the Doctor over and over again. He was clearly drugged and didn't understand what was happening.

"Now," the doppelganger said. "Fight the pirates."

"None of this is real," Ginger spat, chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. 

"But it _feels _real," said doppelginger. "So you behave as if it is. You can't bear the thought that what if it's _just _real enough to hurt him-"

A door opened where before there had been empty air. A version of the Doctor stepped out. He looked around, obviously confused.

"Ginger? What...?"

The doppelganger changed instantly, her eyes filling with love and sorrow. The pirate ship they were on disappeared and they were back in the holding cell with Ginger on one side of the room and her Doctor slumped against the opposite wall. The doppelganger walked over to her Doctor, caressing his face with surprising tenderness. "You're dreaming, sweetheart. You've got a little temperature again. Why'd you get out of bed?"

This Doctor didn't look well. He had shadows under his eyes and was pale as could be. He was all skin and bones and was shaking, barely keeping himself upright. The worst part was his eyes. There was nothing left in them. "I woke up and you weren't there." His eyes fell on the bruise from where Ginger had hit her earlier. He brushed his fingers across it. "What happened to your face?"

"Nothing, my love," she said gently. "Just hurt myself. Why don't you go back to bed and I'll get you some water? If you get bored, just pop something nice on the telly, alright?"

He nodded. "Don't be long," he said. 

He began to shuffle away. She kept her back turned to Ginger and the others so they wouldn't see the tears that sprang to her eyes. "I won't."

Ginger had been stunned into silence but she took the opportunity to speak. "What was that? What did you _do _to him?" She knew, instinctively, that the man she'd just seen had been real. He hadn't been an imaginary construct. The doppelganger hadn't wanted her to see that.

The doppelganger steeled herself and turned back to Ginger. "What I had to do."

"What else have you done?" Ginger asked softly, the accusation burning in her eyes. "You're testing me, right? That's the deal here? You've done this to me before, haven't you? A few weeks back? You had us kidnapped and did tests on us? This is just the next phase?"

The slight change in the doppelganger's eyes spoke volumes. "What are you on about?"

"You tortured us," she said. "You asked us weird, invasive questions. Then when you were done, you killed the scientists. Right? You left that message for us? 'If you didn't want me, you should've let me go?' I'd assumed it was the Corsair because she knows who I am, but it's so obvious. Who could know me better than me?"

The expression on her doppelganger's face had changed to one of horror. Something about this statement had rattled her to her core. "What did you say?"

Cupid knew what she was thinking and tried to calm her down. "Now, my dear, it's important that we not rush to conclusions-"

She whipped around to face him. "_I _didn't do that! You know I didn't! I only kill in self defense - just to protect what's mine!" She pushed her hands through her hair frantically as her breathing became ragged. She pointed a finger at Cupid. "_You _told me she was dead! You _lied _to me! I knew it! I knew it!"

"Please, calm down-"

"Don't bloody tell me to calm down! You know what she's capable of! I just need to...I need to think..." She began to pace and her eyes fell back on Ginger. "Of course. I can't leave this one undefended. She's only part of the way there. She must be activated."

"No!" Exclaimed Cupid. "You can't activate her. She's too young!"

"Oh and I wasn't?" the doppelganger snapped at him. 

"You were a little older than she is-"

"Not by much-"

"And that was a choice you made. You'd be better off if you never had to make it." He looked at her closely, his eyes ancient and filled with sorrow. "You're not well, you need help. Please just let me help you."

"I don't need help," she said in a low voice.

"You're losing your grip on reality. You might even be in withdrawal. This is a lot of energy to expend on a good day, but if you're in withdrawal-"

The doppelganger decided she'd had enough of this and turned back to Ginger. "Don't tell me you've actually been listening to this fucking guy? I know it's hard not to because he has that way of getting under your skin by pretending he knows what's best, but he's a goddamn fool. He's going to tell you that to save your Doctor, you have to let him go. But that's fucking stupid. The Doctor will die if you let him go. You know that, deep down. So it's up to you to keep him safe. Whatever it takes."

"She's so unstable," Cupid protested. "You can't be sure that activating her might not trap her or even kill us all! You can't activate her when she can't hope to control it!"

"It's a risk we'll have to take."

Suddenly all the nearby dimensional walls were made transparent. Jack, Alex, and the Corsair were revealed.

Alex immediately saw the Doctor on the floor. "Doctor?" she screamed, convinced he was dead.

He groaned, only coming completely out of his fog at the sound of her voice. "Alex?" 

"I'm sorry," Jack said. "It didn't take us long to figure out that she wasn't Ginger, but we weren't in time."

The Doctor was suddenly very angry, but still couldn't really move."You let her go right now."

"Another little human pet," the doppelganger said, disinterestedly. "She can be sacrificed."

"My daughter isn't a sacrifice."

The doppelganger lifted her eyebrows. "Daughter? This timeline _is _weird." She turned to Ginger with a mocking grin. "Does that make you a mummy?"

"Shut up," Ginger snapped.

The Corsair had been slowly coming round throughout this whole thing, and found that things were worse than she'd expected. "Let them go," she croaked, voice heavy from sleep. "They've got nothing to do with this."

"And who are _you, _anyway?" the doppelganger said. "I only took you because you're always hanging around with them."

"You really have no value for life if you so easily forget those people that you kill."

"Do I know you?" she asked, curiously. Then she realized. "Oh yes...Of course. Of _course _I'd know you anywhere. My, my, my...Didn't think I'd ever see you again, Corsair. Thought I'd gotten rid of you after I gutted you."

"You didn't do a very good job," the Corsair spat.

"Time Lords are so tricky," she tisked. "Gotta remember that they regenerate. Won't be making that mistake again."

"I tried to help you," the Corsair pled. "I tried being your friend. And you killed me."

"You should be thanking me. You're _way _hotter now."

"Are you even capable of remorse?"

"Don't go acting like it wasn't equally your fault that you got killed. I mean, I might've listened to you if you came around looking like this at the time. You were some big towering guy at the time trying to tell me what to do. I got threatened. Can you blame me?"

"_Yes!"_

"Is that why you've always been so scared of me?" Ginger cut in. "Because Doppelginger killed you?"

"Doppelginger?" asked the Corsair.

"Yeah, that's what we decided an alternate universe version of me would be called," Ginger said. "We never came up with one for an alternate universe Doctor, but it just hit me: Doppeldoc."

"Doppeldoc," the Doctor chuckled. "I like that."

Doppelginger was very displeased to see the way he was looking at her alternate. "Doppelginger," she laughed. "That's clever. Sirenia always called us Artificial Gingers. Always called me Red Number Two. I always wondered who she considered to be the original...but none of them survive as long as me, so they don't matter."

"You can't even see them as people," the Corsair spat.

"They're corpses," Doppelginger said. "They weren't strong enough. They let theirs die because they were weak. I can't forgive that."

"What is this all for?" Ginger said, getting angry.

"Let's get on with the activation," Doppelginger said. She motioned to her minions. "I'm going to take down those two dimensional walls. Hold them and bring them here."

The cyborgs grabbed Alex and Jack, positioning them in front of Ginger. Doppelginger sauntered forward, pulling a gun from her pocket. "I hate these things," she admitted. "But sometimes you have to do what's necessary." She opened it up and put one singular bullet in it, spinning the chamber until it was ready to fire. She spoke to the cyborgs holding Ginger. "Open her hands."

Ginger struggled against it as the minions raised her arms and held them in place. Her alternate stood to the side and forced the gun into her hands.

"What are you doing?" Ginger asked, alarmed.

"You need to prove it. Prove that you're capable of doing what you have to do to protect him."

"Maybe I'll just shoot you then," she said.

"No you won't. That's not the lesson." She gestured at Alex and Jack. "You have to shoot one of them."

"What?" Ginger asked, shocked by this.

"There's one bullet in the chamber. You're not strong enough to fight your way out of this one, so you have to pick one of these two humans to kill."

"What if I-"

"Shoot me? You can't. Not the way my minions are holding you. And just in case you think you're not going to shoot either...While they were out, I injected them both with mini bombs at the base of their brain stems." She held up a device that must've at one time been her Doctor's sonic screwdriver. "I press this, they both die. You pull the trigger, only one of them dies. It's your choice."

"You're insane," Ginger said.

"We're all mad," she said solemnly. "This is the only way to activate you. You must kill."

"That's not true," the Corsair said. "You don't _have _to kill, that's just the way you've always chosen to do it."

"She has to be bluffing," Alex said. "Right?"

"No, she's not," Ginger said, knowing this to be fact.

"Shoot me, then!" the Doctor said. "Ginger, shoot me."

Doppelginger rolled her eyes. "That's not the lesson. Besides, you'll just regenerate, and that's useless. She'll never learn that way. And besides, it's not about learning anymore. It's about survival."

Ginger looked at him. "Besides, she'd never hurt you. She couldn't allow it."

"Your purpose is to protect the Doctor," Doppelginger said. "You must be activated. You have to take a life."

"Take mine," Jack said.

"What?" Ginger asked, shocked.

"Shoot me," he insisted.

"No, I can't do that-"

The Doctor caught on, then. "Ginger, it's alright. Shoot Jack."

"Come on, shoot me!" he insisted again, louder.

"I can't," she said, as the hammering in her head started again. "Hear...myself think."

"It's between me, and an 18 year old girl. My niece, my goddaughter. If you let her die instead of me, I'll never forgive you. Come on, now, shoot!"

Ginger closed her eyes and nodded, the cyborg shifted her position slightly to position her with a clear shot at his heart. And then...she squeezed the trigger.

"_No!" _she screamed, as she heard the gunshot. She heard his body hit the floor and she kept screaming. It was the most haunting sound that any of them had ever heard from her - a sound that they hadn't believed her capable of.

Since there was no bullet left in the chamber, the cyborg guards let her crumple to the floor. They kept a hold on her so that she couldn't get free.

"You see?" Doppelginger said, crouching down next to her. "We'll do anything for our Doctors. The killing thing...it's who we are."

"It doesn't have to be," Cupid said. "That's a choice you keep making yourself."

"Don't talk to me about it being a choice," Doppelginger hissed. "I never had a choice and neither does she."

"Please, you're sick...you need help..."

She laughed. "Of course I'm sick! It's in my DNA! Another great hand-me-down from dear old dad!"

Ginger was disoriented and confused, she still hadn't stopped sobbing over Jack. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Doppelginger raised her eyebrows. "You don't know? All this time and you haven't figured out who your birth father is?"

"Please," Cupid said to Doppelginger. "Please don't. You don't have to do this."

"I sort of had...some suspicions," Ginger said, half-glancing at Cupid. The others were all staring at him too. "I've been thinking about it. More and more lately. Which is funny because I never actually cared before."

Doppelginger laughed. Not an evil laugh, but one of genuine surprise and glee. "Oh don't tell me? You've actually fallen for this rubbish? You don't think...Oh but that's too sweet...You don't actually think Cupid's your father, do you?"

"Stop it," Cupid said, voice shaking.

Doppelginger saw the look on her face. "Oh that's adorable. Really, really cute. Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but the world doesn't work that way. This old fool likes to delude himself into thinking he's our father, but that's not the reality we live in. Got to face facts."

"If he is who he says he is, then he's been here my whole life," Ginger said softly, eyes darting between Doppelginger and Cupid. "I've just been waiting for him to admit why..."

"You really don't know," Doppelginger laughed, gleefully. "I'm surprised you didn't find out already. It was the first thing I did. That's how I _met _this old fool in the first place! Thought you would've figured it out by now..." She leaned in close and whispered. "I'll tell you who our father is..." She whispered something that the others couldn't hear.

Ginger let out a strangled cry. "You're lying." But she knew she wasn't.

"Oh that's hurtful," Doppelginger replied, placing a hand over her heart as if offended. "You know how hurtful it is to be constantly disbelieved." She turned to Cupid. "As for you..." She pulled another gun from her pocket and pointed it at him as the wall between him and the dimensional pocket they were in dropped. "Shot through the heart, and you're to blame." She shot him. "You give love a bad name." Ginger screamed even as Doppelginger smiled at her own joke. "I know that won't kill you, of course. But let it be a warning to you. You want to play the father figure? Be prepared for the Ginger to kill you." Her eyes returned to Ginger. "Because that's where this is going, you know. You'll kill your father, same as the rest of us. It's the first thing we do after finding out. We can't let that come back to haunt us." She gestured to her cyborgs. "Come on, guys. Let's get going. Make sure their cuffs are all taken off." The cuffs were removed and the cyborgs lined up around Doppelginger, who backed up slowly. "Alright, you lot. See that door there?" She nodded at one right behind Cupid. "Go through that. We're going out the one behind me, and if you try to follow us you'll be caught in here when the dimensional bubble collapses."

"You'll pay for this," Ginger sobbed. "I'll find you, and I'll kill you."

"Hey," Doppelginger said, breezily. "It's your funeral." She and her minions backed out of the door.

Ginger rushed forward with another panicked cry. She reached Jack's crumpled body and shook him. "Jack, wake up, _Jack!" _She looked around at her friends. "Help, him, please, why isn't anyone helping him?"

Alex had rushed to Cupid's side to see if he was alright, but he was dusting himself off. Alex could tell he was a little stung to not be the one Ginger had rushed to, but he put his fingers to his lips as if to say _'she doesn't need to know'_. There were more pressing matters at hand, though. "Ginger-" Alex began.

"We need to get him to the TARDIS," Ginger continued to sob. "Maybe there's still time-" 

The Doctor grabbed her by the arms and pulled her off of him. "There isn't time, we need to get out of here."

"I won't just _leave _him!" she screamed.

"No one is asking you to," Cupid said. "But we need to go _now!"_

Ginger screamed and struggled as the Doctor tossed her through the doorway then grabbed Jack's legs. Cupid took the hint and took hold of Jack's arms, taking care that no skin-to-skin contact occurred. 

They found themselves outside the TARDIS on a cool night, just managing to escape before the dimensional pocket disappeared. The Doctor, still weakened by the drug in his system, accidentally dropped Jack unceremoniously to the ground. Ginger rushed to Jack at once.

"The Nanogenes," she insisted, still obviously distraught. "If we get him inside now, they might be able to save him-"

"Ginger-" the Doctor tried to cut in.

"Why are you all just standing there?" she screamed. She let out another pained sob and covered her face with her hands. "I'm sorry, I'm so so so sorry, this is all my fault." She threw her arms around Jack's torso and buried her face in his chest. "I'm so sorry, Jack, I'm so sorry."

"I knew I could get you to hug me."

Ginger dropped him suddenly and looked at him as if she was seeing a ghost. "Jack? You're alive?"

"Pretty much permanently," he grinned, sitting up. "Did I forget to mention that I can't die? Sorry I waited this long to say anything, but when you wake up and the Doctor's grabbing hold of your legs, struggling and saying something about it isn't exactly the first thing that comes to mind. Well, I don't have to tell you..."

She hugged him again, this time properly. "I was so scared, I thought I killed you. I would never forgive myself."

"I honestly thought you knew," he said. "I guess it never came up in conversation?"

She started sobbing again.

"Hey, it's alright," Jack said. "It's alright."

But Ginger was inconsolable. She buried her face in her hands and began shaking.

"Ginger?" the Doctor said. 

"We need to get her inside," Cupid said. "Now."

...

Ginger hadn't said a word while they were getting her to her medical cot.

"Will she be alright?" Alex asked.

"She's going into meltdown," said Cupid. "If we don't act fast, we'll lose her for good. Her mind is too active, she could get trapped in there."

"What do we do?" asked Jack.

"You and Alex let me deactivate your kill chips," said the Corsair. "You don't need to worry about her. It was inevitable that she'd end up like this. I've seen it before." She removed a small wand-shaped implement from her pocket.

"What's that?" asked Alex warily. "Sorta looks like a sonic, but it's not, is it?"

"Perceptive," said the Corsair. "Surgical laser scalpel. Comes with several settings, but on low, I can remove your chips."

"And on high?" asked Alex.

"Let's not go there," said the Corsair. "I'm very qualified. Turn around, please."

Alex reluctantly turned her back and moved her hair so that the Corsair could aim at the back of her neck. "If my brain boils or something, I'm gonna haunt you." She winced as she felt the sharp white-hot pain begin. In just a second, it was over.

"See?" the Corsair asked, showing Alex the tiny kill chip she'd extracted. "All better. Automatically cauterized. Now, let me do Jack."

"Later, Cora, not in front of the kid," Jack tried to tease, but his heart wasn't in it. His eyes were locked on Ginger as the Corsair got to work extracting his kill chip. "What can we do for her? For Ginger?"

"We need someone she trusts completely," Cupid said. He turned to the Doctor. "She let you into her mind once before. You need to go back in."

"No," the Corsair said, putting down her laser scalpel after finishing Jack's extraction job. "No you can't be serious! He can't go into her mind! He could get trapped in there too!"

"It's your decision, Doctor," Cupid said. "I love her like she's my own daughter. I'd like to see her live. But I'm also torn because you have a duty to this universe. I can't possibly choose for you."

"I can," snapped the Corsair. "Doctor, you need to leave her behind. She's a distraction. You need to go meet your destiny or the universe will collapse. You're avoiding a fixed point. You can't risk the whole universe just for this girl."

"So what you're telling me is that to save the world I have to lose her," the Doctor said. "Everyone seems to think it's one or the other."

"Because it is," the Corsair insisted. "It's never worked out any other way."

"But nothing has ever worked out this way," the Doctor said. "This universe is different, everyone keeps saying that. So this can be different."

"You can't be so foolish," snapped the Corsair. "This is an incredibly stupid idea-"

"Ouch!" the Doctor said, after the Corsair took that opportunity to inject him with something. "What was that?"

"Antidote to the drug Doppelginger gave you," said the Corsair. "You'll most likely not remember much that happened between her injection and mine, but you should be feeling a little more lucid now."

"Guys," Alex said, softly. "I think she's trying to speak."

And Ginger was, softly.

_"Darling you got to let me know_   
_Should I stay or should I go?_   
_If you say that you are mine_   
_I'll be here 'til the end of time_   
_So you got to let me know_   
_Should I stay or should I go?"_

"She's coming out of it?" the Doctor asked, hopefully.

Cupid shook his head. "I'm afraid not. She's in a loop. She's still fracturing. You said before that she was fractured, that she didn't understand. That's both true and false. She's a great multitude of things, all of which are her. The problem is, none of them get along."

"Cupid, please..." Ginger sobbed. "Tell me it's not true. Tell me she's lying. It's not as if I'd ever really put any hope on...It was a stupid, impossible idea, and I don't know why I even thought it. But it was better than this."

"I'm sorry," Cupid replied, genuinely. "I didn't want you to find out. Not like this."

Ginger shook her head, trying to will it all away. She started singing again.

_"Should I stay or should I go now?_   
_If I go there will be trouble_   
_And if I stay it will be double_   
_So ya gotta let me know me know_   
_Should I stay or should I go?"_

She wiped her eyes, furiously. "This isn't right. It's not real. It's a trick. He's not..."

"There was no easy way for you to find out," the Corsair said.

"What is it?" Jack asked. "What's going on?"

"I guess that explains everything," Ginger said, scathingly. "Why I am the way I am." She swallowed hard and looked at the Doctor. "Do you ever just...do you ever just look at your life and realize that it doesn't make any sense? That if you look closely enough there are these little holes and things that you thought you understood are suddenly totally incomprehensible?"

"Ginger," the Doctor said, putting his hands up in the air in a placating way. "You're hurting yourself."

"Hm?" She followed his gaze down to her left hand, which she now noticed was digging its nails into her right arm. It was drawing blood. "Oh that? It's nothing. No sense crying over spilled blood, right? Not when it's mine?" Her voice became tinged with anger, disgust, and bitterness as she continued scratching away at herself. "Got broken DNA, me. I'm rotten from the inside."

The Doctor tried to pin her arms down, which wasn't easy since she was struggling. "Ginger, stop it. You are not broken. There is _nothing _wrong with you-"

"Let go of me, let go of me, don't touch me!" she struggled free and crouched at the end of the bed like a feral animal ready to fight. "You should know that bad things happen to people who touch me. Maybe it's genetic, maybe I can't help it-"

"Why would you think that-"

"Because I'm the Master's daughter," Ginger snapped. Then she rounded on Cora. "Right? That's the big secret? That I'm...That he's..."

This news hit the Doctor like a ton of bricks. "What? No." He sat down heavily, feeling as if all the air had gone from the room. "No that's...impossible. Yes, he and Edie had a daughter, but-"

"Not that daughter," Cupid said. "Her younger sister. The one nobody even knew existed. Edie accidentally got pregnant, and you knew by that time natural births were in danger."

"Edie?" Ginger asked. "That girl that had a crush on him in our dream?"

"They got married soon after I married Vita," the Doctor said. "Koschei didn't really care much for her, it was just another way to mirror me like he always did. He didn't treat her right...If he'd found out that Edie was pregnant, he probably would've killed you both."

"I was there," Cupid said, surprising everyone except Cora. "When you were born. I didn't know what my purpose was at the time, if I had...I try to justify it by saying that there was no other way. That if I'd left you there, you would've died. But perhaps that would've been better for you. No, I can't even think that...I have to believe you have a shot at a life. That I saved you from something..."

"Start talking," Ginger said, heavily. "Explain this to me. Make me understand."

"It was always you, Ginger," Cora said, gravely. "It's always been you."

"What the hell does that mean?" she spat.

"The great weapon that the Ood spoke of, the one in the prophecy...it was always you."

"What?" Now it was the Doctor's turn to be confused. "No. No that's not...You're confused. Yeah, I see what happened here, you've just...You've mixed them up, is all. Ginger isn't the weapon. I thought she was because she was acting suspicious the first time we met, but she was just a...a really spectacular red herring, is all."

"Tell me, then," the Corsair interjected. "If you suddenly have this amazing insight into how this all works better than I do - and let me remind you, I've been working at this for years - then tell me...What is the weapon? If not her, then what?"

"Well, it was...it was a Grackenvite," the Doctor said. "Inhabiting Margot-"

"And didn't you wonder why the greatest weapon against you would be a lowly Grackenvite? Seemed a bit too easy, didn't it?"

"Well yes, but...But no! Because she told me, she said...The plan was always infiltration. To get someone close to me..." But he started to realize it as he said it aloud. "Someone I would protect at all costs."

The Corsair nodded, able to see she was finally getting through to him. "Now tell me, Doctor...Does that sound like some random human that you barely knew or a confused Gallifreyan orphan who just so happens to have been forged in the same star as you."

"No that's impossible. It isn't..._She _isn't..."

"She is," the Corsair said. "She is a creation of the Trickster, his greatest weapon. Clever, isn't it? He knew that you'd suspect her immediately because of how she was, so he planted something else to make it look like she was a red herring. But it was a double bluff. The real red herring was the distraction."

"I don't understand," Jack said, slowly. "So she's...a sleeper agent? Because she doesn't seem to have consciously known."

"No, much more sophisticated and subtle than that," Cupid replied. "She was purposely placed in the exact time and location that would manipulate her into becoming the type of person the Doctor would be unable to say no to in the fragile state he's in during these final days."

"So what, I'm just some honey trap?" Ginger snapped. "That's sexist. Completely reductive. Like we can't make our own decisions."

"That's exactly why I've been trying to help you as much as I can," explained Cupid. "I know you can be so much more than that. You're smart. You can do better."

"I still don't understand," Ginger said. "Why me?"

"The Trickster was banished from our dimension," said Cupid. "And he needed chaos energy to manifest again. He found a way to create that chaos that was stronger than any plan he could've formulated before. So...he came to me. I didn't know what it was for at the time...He just said I had to try to locate the impossible. I had to find the star-mate of the Doctor. There were impossible odds, but then again, we are in the business of time travel. So I looked and looked...and finally found it." He looked at Ginger. "You, Ginger. Your mother was about to give birth in secret and I was to take you away. And I thought that...I thought that I was doing a good thing. Removing you from there, where you were sure to be killed. I couldn't let that happen. I'd always wanted a daughter, but that first time I held one of you in my arms...I just knew I couldn't let harm come to you. You were so small. So very fragile. I had to protect you. I've always watched over you. Every time you were close to death, I was there. Helping you. Making sure you survived."

"So I was right," she said, bitterly. "There was something out there keeping me alive. Now I sort of know why. You should've let me die."

"I couldn't do that. I cared about you too much, from the first moment I laid eyes on you. My job was to take you to Earth, and I had this...I had this feeling that something bad was going to happen if I left you. But I couldn't say no to my orders, I was...under duress, you could say. So I had to leave you. I had the promise that the Doctor would take care of you. I had no idea that this is what he meant. I had no idea what was really happening. I could be your theatre teacher, but that's all the contact I was allowed. When I found out what happened to you, it broke my heart. But I couldn't do anything. If I so much as tried, I'd be killed like the other Cupids. And then I couldn't help you."

"I can't..." Ginger swallowed. "I can't cope with this, it's so much, I don't _understand_..."

"I really am sorry," Cupid said. "You would be right to not forgive me. I just...wanted to be part of your life. Check to see that you're alright, especially since this version of you...Well, you were always different."

"There was never any hope for us?" Ginger asked. "It was always doomed? There are no universes where I don't completely destroy him?"

"There was one..." Cora admitted. "One where I first introduced a version of Alex."

"Alex?" the Doctor repeated, glancing at his daughter. "_This _was what you wanted her for?"

"Now I'm confused," Alex said. "What does this have to do with me?"

"I found you, Alex," said the Corsair. "Well, another version of you. It worked that time. You were the exact kind of balance that the Doctor needed. You convinced him to leave Ginger long enough to save the world. Because he has to go, no matter the personal cost. The whole of space-time will unravel. But this universe is different, it didn't work. Which should be impossible, I ran all the scenarios."

"When did you pick me?" asked Alex. "A few years back? When?"

"You hadn't been born yet," said the Corsair. "I knew what you would become, so I tweaked things a bit to let you go where you needed to."

Alex narrowed her eyes. "So you you knew about my parents?"

"Yeah, of course, they're part of what makes you what you are."

"You didn't think about changing that so they wouldn't die? Or did you arrange for them to die?"

"They were going to die anyway," said the Corsair. "I let things play out because I knew that it would create a perfect counterbalance to Ginger. A human empath with incredible knowledge of aliens who could get empathy from the Doctor and Ginger for being a foster kid."

"You manipulated me," Alex said. "My entire life. Everything I went through. Just to be this."

"Join the club," said Ginger. "We were talking about me, weren't we? Explain _me_. What was supposed to happen in this other timeline that didn't happen here?"

"Alex kept the Doctor grounded," the Corsair explained. "Kept him on track. But I couldn't save you. I thought...I thought I'd gotten through to you. It was after I'd already been killed by Doppelginger, so I was already in this form. And you seemed more willing to listen. The two of you parted ways and he said he'd come back after he'd done what he had to...but you couldn't take being apart from him. I didn't notice until it was too late. So you...I mean, she...killed herself. I guess you lot are predisposed to suicide. Why wouldn't you be? I've seen what you went through as a child."

"Why didn't you do anything?" Ginger asked. "If you saw what I went through, why didn't you stop it from happening?"

"I tried," the Corsair said. "In other universes, I tried. But you are the subject of multiple fixed points."

She laughed, a deranged sound. "This is exactly why I hate Time Lords. It's always sacrifices. You never do anything about it. You never do anything to help. We have to suffer because of your prime directive. I'm just a sacrifice to meet your ends."

"You would've died. This was the only path where you lived. If Christmas hadn't happened, he would've gotten away with it and you would've died anyway."

She laughed, derisively. "Wouldn't that be better?"

"No," the Doctor said. "It wouldn't be."

"Just get out," Ginger said softly, getting to her feet. "Leave."

"Ginger, you've got to understand-" said Cora.

Now it was the Doctor's turn to get angry, stepping up to Ginger and gently taking her protectively by the arms as he glared at Cora. "She said to _leave. _This is her home, and she's not feeling safe with you here. So I'm going to need you to go. Right now."

"I really am sorry," Cora said, defeated. "I wish...I wish things could've been different." She left.

"This is why you and her don't get along, isn't it?" Ginger asked Cupid. "Because she gave up on me."

"Don't be too hard on her," Cupid said. "We've been put through a lot by other versions of you. I just always knew you could be better."

"Because I'm just not a villain, right?" she asked, sarcastically.

He paused. "You remember that?"

"Of course I do. How could I forget?"

"Remember what?" the Doctor asked.

"You're not doomed," Cupid insisted. "I want you to remember that. Hold onto the good inside you. Don't let yourself be the weapon everyone else tried to get you to be."

"You've popped up in my life over and over again," Ginger said. "I can see that now. How did I not see that before?"

Ginger pulled away from the Doctor then and began pacing.

"Ginger..." the Doctor began. "You alright?"

She spotted Cora's laser scalpel, which she'd accidentally left behind, and snatched it up.

"Ginger, what are you doing with that?" the Doctor asked, eyeing it nervously.

"So this is where it ends, then?" Ginger asked nobody in particular.

"Where what ends?" the Doctor asked.

"Us, everything...Your childhood friend with benefits is my father. I think that's a pretty serious line crossed there. And even if somehow we could get past that...I'm bad for you. Someone specifically put me in your path to destroy you. So I've gotta...I've gotta get out of your way." She looked down at the tiny instrument. "How does this work, anyway? Probably a lot like the screwdriver." She adjusted a dial, putting it on maximum settings. "I'm just holding you back..." She raised the scalpel to her neck.

"Ginger, wait, please don't do this," Jack said.

"Why not?" she asked, tears falling from her eyes as she whipped around to face them.

"If you press that button, your blood will boil and you will die," the Doctor said. 

"I'm through with this," Ginger sobbed. "I'm through pretending things can ever be okay! I don't want to be who I am! I just want it to stop!"

"Ginger, you're scaring us," Alex said.

"Good! You should be scared! Didn't you see what happened tonight? You should be fucking terrified of me! I'm a monster-"

"You are _not _a monster," Cupid insisted. "That's a role that was cast for you. But that's not who you are."

She rounded on the Doctor. "How much does it hurt?"

"What?" he asked.

"Regeneration? It sounds like it would hurt. But it's worth it, isn't it? I just give myself a little cut...And all of the pain goes away. I don't have to be me anymore. I can be someone else. I can be someone better. I don't want to be who I am!"

"You'd still be you," the Doctor said, feeling as if his hearts were breaking. "Regeneration doesn't change your memories or who you are at your core. You can get a new face and a few personality quirks, but changing your outsides doesn't make the pain go away. You can shoot yourself and become a different person, but you can't ever make it stop. Take it from someone who knows."

She seemed to falter a little bit at this confession. "I just want it to stop," she said, her voice cracking. "I don't want to be this. I want to be better - to be the person you think I am. I just want to change."

"You don't have to regenerate to change," he reminded her. "Humans don't regenerate and they change all the time. Besides, I don't want some fictitious construct you made up to make me happy. I want you to be yourself."

"You don't know me," she sobbed. "I've kept so much from you. If you knew - if you really knew who I am - then you would hate me." She sat down heavily on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"I don't think so," he said, reassuringly. "I'm not going to promise that I won't react poorly because I have been known to do that, but I'm not going to abandon you. I know you. You like Dollhouse for the same reason you like acting. You like the idea of being able to put someone else on and take them off at the end of the night. Memory free. Consequence free. But it's not that simple in reality. I know you don't want to remember. But I think you have to. Otherwise you'll just get stuck. I think...I think we've let ourselves get stuck."

"I don't want to," she sobbed. "I don't want it to be real. Don't make me remember."

"I know," he said, kneeling before her and placing his hands on either side of her face. "But you need to face it. I know this is hypocritical coming from me, but I think you've run as far as you can. Look at me. Ginger, look at me."

She finally did. "I was going to be with you forever," she said, voice breaking.

"I know," he said, feeling a chill go down his spine.

"The rest of my life, traveling in the TARDIS. I can't go back. Please don't make me go back."

"How ironic, that the last red haired girl who said that to me desperately wanted to remember and now you're just desperate to forget," he said, tears filling his eyes. "Ginger, I promise you. I will not make you go back. You're not going anywhere. I promise." He looked up at Jack. "Jack, get Alex out of here. She doesn't need to be here for this."

"I'll stay," Cupid said. "You'll need someone here to supervise you if things get too bad in there."

Jack looked worried, as if he didn't want to be leaving the room. But he decided it was better to give them their privacy. "Alex, come on. With me." 

Alex didn't want to leave her either, but she was so exhausted by the emotions that she was feeling that she let Jack lead her away.

"This will be dangerous, Doctor," Cupid said. "I don't know what you'll find in there. You could get trapped or worse."

"You talk about it like it's a physical place,"he said.

"It is. I told you her mind is more vivid to you because of your connection. That wasn't the whole truth. She's something you've never seen before. Her mind is a pocket dimension in itself. And it will protect itself from attack. You need to be ready for anything."

The Doctor was looking at Ginger, but he spoke to Cupid. "What do I need to do?"

"You need to find a way to contact me when you're inside. I'll be able to help you connect the shattered fragments of her mind. Doppelginger's activation failed. Now we have to pick up the pieces or we'll lose her for good."

Ginger was losing her grip again, starting to slip back into a nonverbal state. The Doctor took this opportunity to speak to her. "Ginger, it's me. Let's get you back to the bed. Make you more comfortable."

"You can't understand..." she whispered. "You told me yourself, you had things in your past that were worth the pain. This is all I have. I can't give it up. This is the role of a lifetime."

"You won't be alone," he assured her. "Ginger, I...I'm still here. No matter what. You can let me in." 

She nodded, tears leaking from her eyes. Just do it, then."

He helped her back onto the bed, positioning himself so they were lying there staring at each other. He placed his hands on either side of her face.

"You sure about this?" He asked.

She nodded, giving in to it. "I'm sure about you. I trust you. Do it before I change my mind. Allons-y?"

"Allons-y," he said, before closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against hers.


	46. Left Handed Kisses

The first thing the Doctor was aware of was a live wire sparking near his head. He hurried away from it, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom. The room was in a state of extreme disrepair, but there was no mistaking where he was.

"I'm on the TARDIS," he said aloud, to no one in particular. And so he was. This was his control room, right down to the most minute detail. Except this TARDIS was dead.

He didn't know where to start, so he went to the control panel. He brushed a layer of dust off it, exposing the fading buttons underneath. "What's happened to you, old girl?" he asked, even though he knew this wasn't real. Or it was, just not his reality. He remembered what he was looking for.

"Ginger?" he called, letting his voice echo back to him. He thought it best to announce himself. Being quiet might be perceived as a threat. Nobody answered. "Anybody here?"

He knew he needed to find a way to contact Cupid, but wasn't sure how he was meant to do that. He realized he'd been foolish to not ask for more clear directions. He looked around for anything that might be used to communicate, but all systems were dead. Then he remembered. But it couldn't be that simple...

He located the phone Martha Jones had left him that he kept in a pocket in the console. 

_There's no way this works_," he thought, dialing the only number he knew by heart.

...

Outside, in the hallway of the real TARDIS, Alex Mitchell received a phone call from an unknown number. She started to dismiss the call - people in her age group generally don't answer calls from unknown numbers - but Jack stopped her.

"Who is it?"

She shrugged. "Unknown number. Probably a telemarketer."

"On the phone I gave you?" Jack asked. "It's special programmed and encrypted. No telemarketer can get through. It might be important."

"Well, in that case," said Alex, answering the phone. "Hello?"

The Doctor had never been so relieved. "That _worked_? I can't believe that actually worked!"

Alex was confused. "Doc?" She moved forward a few paces so she could look into the infirmary. He was definitely still lying there, completely still. "When are you calling from?"

"Now, presumably," the Doctor replied. "Listen, I know this is strange, but I need you to give the phone to Cupid."

"Er, alright?" She braced herself for the inevitable flood of emotions she was about to experience and took the phone to Cupid. "It's for you."

"Hm?" asked Cupid. Then he smiled as he understood. "Ah. Yes. Excellent. Thank you, my dear, you've been most helpful." He took the phone. "Doctor, I was beginning to be worried about you."

"How is this working?" the Doctor asked. "This isn't a _real _phone."

"But it'll behave like one," said Cupid. "In fact, I'm wondering if you'll be able to Facetime me in there."

"What?"

"Facetime, Doctor, it's where you use the phone's camera to augment the communication experience-"

"I know what Facetime is," he snapped. "I'm just surprised _you _do."

"My dear boy, I've been around for such a long time. Did you really expect me to not get up-to-date on the communication methods of the century I spend most of my time in? Now, can you see if you can use some sort of mobile application of that equivalence to allow me to see what you're dealing with."

"This is Martha Jones' phone," the Doctor said. "It is a few years too young for any-"

"Doctor, this isn't exactly magic, but it's closer to that than it is to any science you could possibly understand at this juncture. Please locate an application."

The Doctor was infuriated to discover that there was such an app on this phone. He called in to Cupid. "This is _so _anachronistic."

"She always did say she was the Girl Anachronism," Cupid shrugged. "Now what do you see? Where are you?"

"A dead TARDIS. _My _dead TARDIS. I don't understand what I'm supposed to be doing here."

"She's fragmented. You'll see that soon enough. She is so many things all at once and she can't make the pieces fit together. That's why you think she's switching between different people. It's not that she has multiple personalities, it's that she has no stable sense of self. If she is to recover, we must merge all the parts of her."

"How?"

"You must play her game. It's the only way. You say you're in a dead TARDIS?"

"Yeah."

"She feels safe in the TARDIS. It's her home. But if this one has gone dead, she's doubting her place in it. If I had to guess at your objective, you have to find her, revive the TARDIS, and fly her home."

"Easier said than done," the Doctor said.

"Everything worth doing is," said Cupid.

The Doctor backed up a few paces to observe the scope of the TARDISes damage and almost backed into someone who was standing directly behind him.

"What the hell are you doing on my ship?"

He felt so relieved as he turned to face her. "Ginger, you're here. I found you. We can go home."

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "This is my home. Not your home. How the hell did you get in here?"

"Ginger-"

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because it's your name."

"Don't have one of those. You've got to earn a name, I'm worse than Nobody."

Cupid was suddenly standing next to him. "Doctor-"

The Doctor jumped. "How did you do that?"

Back on the real TARDIS, Cupid was confused. "How did I do what?"

"You're standing here with me," the Doctor said.

"I'm not, Doctor, I promise you I'm not," said Cupid. "Ginger's brain is converting the sound of my voice into a tangible presence. In fact...Yes, the screen on my phone is showing a more first-person view now. This'll be much more adequate."

"None of this makes sense," the Doctor said.

"Don't think about it too hard," Cupid warned. "You can't cope with it now. You need to focus."

Ginger had been frozen in place through this entire exchange. "So I found her," the Doctor said. "That was easy."

"That's what I was going to say," Cupid replied. "You can't be sure this is her. She's fragmented. This could be an echo or worse, a trick."

Ginger came back to herself. "Echo. A mountain nymph. She pined for Narcissus until nothing was left but her-"

She disappeared and a spotlight fixed on a point to his left. He walked up to the edge of a stage that had never been there before.

A red haired girl of no older than 13 was standing center stage wearing a blue dress and a white apron.

A man with dark, curly hair and a beard sat in the front row. The Doctor didn't immediately recognize him. He looked so different.

"Recite!" the man said. "And remember your diction. And your posture."

Cupid looked on at the scene with sad eyes. "I remember all this. I only wanted her to learn how to have proper stage physicality. Unfortunately I believe I may have taught her to be unnecessarily rigid. I wish I could go back to this, do it again."

The girl spoke, her English accent delicate and refined. "It's no good going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then."

"That was almost eerie," the Doctor said. "That was part of the memory, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Cupid replied, his eyes still fixed intently on the little girl. "And, quite possibly, no."

"But it would be impossible to talk to a memory," the Doctor said.

"I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast," said the little girl. She smiled at them and moved to the edge of the stage. "Curiouser and curiouser. You can hear me?"

"Of course we can hear you," said the Doctor. "Why shouldn't we?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Because nobody ever hears me. I'm-" There was a glitch and a snippet of music played. "_Just a little girl, you see_-"

He understood what she was trying to convey. "No, there's a hell of a lot more to you. I wouldn't dream of underestimating what you can do or telling you who you're meant to be."

She shook her head. "Strange grownups, to hear what you tell them. Grownups only ever hear what they want to."

"We're looking for Ginger," said the Doctor. "Are you Ginger?"

She gestured to her costume. "I'm Alice, of course. And if I had to guess, I'd say...You're the Mad Hatter and the Dormouse. No, no, of course not. Your friend is the White Rabbit. How do you do and shake hands! State your name and business!"

"Alice," the Doctor said. "Do you know where we can find Ginger?"

"I don't know her."

"She's you."

"That doesn't make a bit of sense. It's no use now, you know, to pretend to be two people. Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make a respectable person!"

"Respectability is usually the furthest thing from her mind," the Doctor acknowledged.

"We need to go further," urged Cupid. "This tableau could be a clever distraction. We need to venture further into her fractured psyche before it threatens to collapse on us-"

The little girl was suddenly angry. "Speak English!" she fumed. "I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and, what's more, I don't believe you do either!"

"That's not an Alice quote," Cupid reminded her. "That's an entirely other character."

"You talk in Alice in Wonderland quotes," the Doctor noted.

She returned her attention to the Doctor with what almost passed for a pleasant smile. "Of course I do. You found me when I was Alice."

"In that case, would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

"That depends a good deal on where you want to go."

Good, she was playing along. "I don't care much where-"

"Then it doesn't matter which way you go-"

"-So long as I get somewhere."

"Oh you're sure to do that." She hopped off the stage with a bright smile. "If you only walk long enough." She hurried on past him before turning to face him. "Well aren't you coming? I was under the impression that you were in rather a hurry?" She held out a hand to him.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" he asked.

She smiled brightly. "Absolutely nothing." She turned on heel and scurried away. "Do try to keep up. I can't be responsible for your safety."

"I am beginning to wonder what latitude or longitude I've got to," the Doctor said as he and Cupid hurried after her.

"There is no latitude and longitude here," she replied. "No up or down. Everywhere is nowhere and all at once. Time is a place and we never leave it."

He hadn't noticed that they'd reached a long corridor. "What's behind these doors?"

The girl glanced at him. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

Music was playing from behind each one. Different artists, but all loud. "Why the music?"

"There is music in all things. Think back to any time you've ever inhabited and there is at least one consistent note."

He found himself drawn to one of the only doors that wasn't playing sad or angry music. "What's behind this one?"

The girl stopped in her tracks and smiled fondly at him when she saw which door he was indicating. "Yes, of course you'd like that one. We can't go in that one."

"Why can't we?"

"You can, we can't." She indicated Cupid. "For one thing, it's private. _He _isn't allowed."

"But why can't you go?" the Doctor asked.

"Have you seen the state of me?" the girl asked. "I'm far too young and it's gross. I can't begin to understand that room. I've only just mastered appropriate facial expressions."

"And you're doing a wonderful job," he said.

She beamed at him. "You really think so?"

He smiled. "See? There's another great one."

He began turning the door knob when the girl stopped him.

"Oh, Doctor?"

"Yes, Gin...Alice?"

The girl beamed at him. "Gravity works differently for you. Try not to land on your back."

He couldn't fathom what that meant, so he turned the knob and stepped inside. The door immediately slammed shut behind him, but he only cared for a fraction of a second. A wild mass of red hair pinned him to the door and kissed him breathless.

"Ginger," he breathed, allowing himself to forget just for a moment.

"So," she purred. "First alien contact was a success." She looked him up and down ravenously. "Looking forward to further contact."

She kissed him again and he began pushing up her skirt. He remembered this. The first time they were together after Roswell.

_He remembered this._

"Ginger," he said. "We can't do this. We _aren't _doing this. This is all in your head."

She looked at him quizzically. "I don't know what game this is, but I guess I can work with it?"

"It's not a game, Ginger, this isn't real-"

"Ohhhh," she said. "Yeah, right, of course. That's better. Gaslight: The Game sounded a bit shifty to me, but I can play at nonreality. I've never vibed with reality in the first place."

"No that's not what I..." But she was kissing him again and unbuckling his belt.

"I won't mind," she sang softly with a coquettish grin. "If you take off all your clothes, come on take 'em off..."

He was finding it very difficult to concentrate. "Ginger, I..."

She pushed him onto the bed. "I like you so much better when you're naked," she sang, giggling at the absurdness of the situation. "I like _me_ so much better when you're naked..."

"I know you do," he said softly. "That's partially why I'm concerned..."

But he couldn't resist her. She kissed him again and it was suddenly as if he was experiencing every time they'd been together at once. There were also different memories. Laughing and having fun with her in the TARDIS. The way she smiled at him. Yes, this was good. This was everything. There wasn't anything else.

_Gravity works differently for you. Try not to land on your back._

He concentrated and found himself lying on his back on the bed. He looked to his left and saw her, turned away from him and evidently asleep. He inched closer and rubbed her arms gently to wake her up. She giggled as she woke up and found him kissing her neck.

"It's time to go, Ginger," he said, gently. "Time to wake up."

"Why would I do that?" she asked, thinking this was some sort of game.

"We have to leave, Ginger. We can't stay here."

She rolled over to face him. "Why would we ever want to leave?" She kissed him slowly.

"I don't," he whispered. "But we have to."

"What if I don't want to?" she asked, smiling and running her fingers through his hair. "Why don't you just stay here? We can stay forever. You never have to leave."

"You know how hard it is for me to say no to you. But this time is over. I know that's hard for you."

"Why would it be hard for me?"

"Because you love me."

She sat up sharply, a sudden annoyance rushing over her. "Don't be ridiculous. I can't love anybody. That's not allowed. I'm cold and empty."

He sat up as well. "You do love me," he insisted. "And that's why you have to come with me."

"That is _dangerously _close to being a Fringe quote," she scoffed, getting up to dress herself.

That gave him an idea.

"Ginger..." he said, slowly leaving the bed. "You don't belong here."

She pulled a shirt on then stopped. "No, I don't belong here. But I don't belong there either."

"Yes you do," he insisted, taking her by the arms and making her face him. "I have thought of a hundred reasons... why you should come back. To--to fight the shapeshifters, to take care of Walter, to--to save the world. But in the end... you have to come back. Because you belong with me."

Ginger was swept off her feet by one of her favorite quotes and kissed him in the heat of the moment. "No wait," she said, breaking away. "Ha. You almost tricked me there. Using Olivia Dunham against me like that. Of course you know all my weaknesses. I'm not so easily fooled." She spun in a circle and suddenly she was on a stage and he was watching from the bed.

The little girl was at the microphone. "Ladies and entities!" the girl shouted, stage presence simply oozing from her. "Please give it up for our first performance of the evening!"

The little girl handed the microphone to Ginger, who began singing.

_"_ _The early cars  
Already are  
Drawing deep breaths past my door  
And last night's phrases  
Sick with lack of basis  
Are still writhing on my floor_

She wiggled a finger at him, as if admonishing him for something naughty.

_"And it doesn't seem fair_

_That your wicked words should work_   
_In holding me down_   
_No, it doesn't seem right_   
_To take information_   
_Given at close range_   
_For the gag_   
_And the bind_   
_And the ammunition round."_

She climbed onto the bed and sang at him as she crawled toward him.

_"Conversation once colored by esteem_   
_Became dialogue as a diagram of a play for blood_   
_Took a vacation, my palate got clean..."_

She took his face in her free hand and leaned in like she was going to kiss him.

_"Now I could taste your agenda_   
_While you're spitting your cud."_

She pushed him away and climbed back onto the stage..

_"And it doesn't make sense_   
_I should fall for the kingcraft of a meritless crown-"_

"But you have," the Doctor said. "I don't know why, after all this time, you can't just admit that you love me."

She spun to face him again, her eyes burning with that same fierce stubbornness. 

_"This is not about love_   
_'Cause I am not in love_   
_In fact I can't stop falling out..."_

He climbed onto the stage and stood in front of her. He was standing so close to her that she was finding it difficult to find the air to keep singing.

_"This is not about love_   
_'Cause I am not in love_   
_In fact i cant stop falling out_   
_I miss that stupid..."_

He kissed her and the music stopped, replaced from clapping from the audience. He pulled away from her and she reluctantly allowed it, but she kept her eyes on him for a lot longer than she needed to. He, on the other hand, looked to the audience. The bed was no longer there. They were definitely in an auditorium of some sort. The clapping was from the little girl. Cupid was seated next to her.

"Fascinating," said Cupid. 

"I found her," the Doctor said. "Now we can go?"

"Do you think it's so simple?" Cupid asked. "How can you be absolutely sure that it's her?"

"Because..." He gestured to her. "I mean, it's her."

"It's her as you know her now," Cupid said. "The person she was for you." He gestured to the young girl. "This is Ginger as I knew her. I'm formulating a theory, though I'm not ready to share it."

The Doctor turned to Ginger and took her by the arms. "We have to go, Ginger. You need to trust me."

"I..." She struggled to find words. 

Another Ginger popped up behind him. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, moving toward him and making them back up. "You're interfering with her programming. How did you get in here?"

"She let me in," the Doctor said.

"No," Ginger shook her head. "Nobody gets in. Stuck in my own skin."

"That's Garbage - I mean, the band," he said, as he recognized the reference. He knew this was one of her favorite songs. "You trust me. That's why I'm here."

"Trust is a virus," Ginger said. "You've invaded my operating system. You will now be eliminated to preserve that integrity of the main system."

"I don't like the sound of that," the Doctor admitted as her eyes glowed red.

"What do we do?" asked the little girl.

He grabbed Ginger by her wrist. "Run!" he shouted at Cupid and the little girl.

They ran into the wings, knocking over the prop table in their haste to get away. They ran for so long that it took a while to realize they'd somehow ended up running through the corridors of the TARDIS. Cupid wasn't used to running and tripped over his own feet, hitting the ground heavily.

The little girl had seemed angry or even indifferent toward him up until this point, but she cried out when she saw that he was gone and ran to his side. "Get up, you idiot!" she shouted, struggling to help him up. "We've got to keep running!"

"You're not using your accents," he said, out of habit.

"I'm not Alice anymore, I changed my costume." He suddenly realized that she had. She was wearing jeans and a blue-and-white checkered shirt. "I'm Ruby now. Being Alice was tiring. 

"You always did default back to Ruby," Cupid said, softly. "All your chosen names are so...Colorful."

She looked at him with eyes that were sadder and older than the rest of her face. She took his hand. "We can't stay here. We have to run! Try to keep up!"

The Doctor and his Ginger stopped to catch their breath. He noticed something he hadn't noticed before. "What's this?" He lifted Ginger's necklace by the chain. It was broken. A small chunk was all that was left of the ambered Sour Patch Kid.

"I...don't know," Ginger said.

The little girl and Cupid caught up with them. "I have one of those," she said, lifting her own necklace chain.

He examined them side by side. "It's a different piece," the Doctor said. "I'm not sure what this means."

The lights flickered. "We have to keep moving," the little girl said. "If we don't move, we'll die."

She moved forward a few paces, accidentally dropping Cupid's hand. Something squelched underfoot. She looked down and gasped. The lights had gone out. She was standing in a pool of blood. Her denim dress was covered in it. 

The Doctor and Cupid realized the reality had shifted again. The little girl had aged about two years, by the Doctor's estimation. 

"Ruby," Cupid said, gently taking hold of her wrist. "Give me the knife."

"Do you smell smoke?" she asked, trembling. 

He did. "I don't. Because it isn't here. You're reliving the wrong moment."

A spotlight came down from the sky and fixed the girl in its beam. She smiled. "The only light that I ever had." The blood was gone, and she was back to being thirteen. There wasn't even a knife anymore. She looked at the Doctor. "Until I met you." 

The Doctor wanted to say something, anything clever. His eyes slowly adjusted to the fact that they were back on the stage. No, actually, they weren't. This was a different stage. The one at the theatre where he'd first met Ginger. 

There was a crash from backstage. Cupid was the first one to catch sight of their pursuer in the wings. "We have to get to safety!"

The Doctor caught sight of movement in the tech booth. "We should get to high ground." He pointed. "There. We'll be safe there!"

The Doctor was glad to find the ladder waiting for them when they reached it. "Alright, you first." He gave the little girl a boost. "Ginger, you next."

"But what about you?" she asked.

"We don't have time to argue," the Doctor said. "It matters more to me that you're safe."

The little girl paused on the top rung. "Don't you two start kissing. It's super gross and a waste of time."

Ginger gave him one last lingering look, then began climbing. 

"Cupid," the Doctor said. "You next."

"Me?" Cupid spluttered. "No, you're next."

"Cupid, we don't have time to argue-"

"But why me? You're far more important-"

"Cupid, you love her like a father," the Doctor interjected. "I was - I _am _\- a father. I see the way you look at her, like you'd do anything for her. That makes me trust you completely. If I don't make it, she needs you far more than she needs me."

"I don't know that that's true," Cupid said. He looked up to see that their pursuer had almost reached them. "But she's angrier at me than she is at you, I think." He began climbing.

The Doctor had just begun climbing when this deranged Ginger caught him by the ankle. "You're a threat to operating function," she said. "You will be eliminated like the virus you are. It's time to turn off the life support machine."

"Ginger," the Doctor said, trying to speak so reason to her. "I've told you about the Daleks and the Cybermen. It's really painful for me to see you act like one."

"I do not understand," she said.

"I'm sorry about this, so very sorry." He reached into his pocket and shone his sonic directly into her face. She hissed and let him go. He reached up to grab the next rung on the ladder, but found himself being pulled up by the wrist.

"That's it, up you get," said Cupid, hoisting him into the room while the little girl and Ginger brought up the ladder and closed the trap door.

The Doctor got to his feet and Cupid straightened up. The two Gingers approached them slowly. Ginger hugged the Doctor. The little girl hugged Cupid.

Cupid was the most surprised by the uncharacteristic warmth. "What's this for?"

"I thought you were dead," the little girl whispered. 

His heart broke for her and he put his arms around her. "I know. I'm very sorry. You know, I don't think you've ever hugged me before."

"I'm not a hugger," she replied. "And it's not like we could've hugged in the real world. You know this."

He nodded. "I do."

Ginger pulled away from the Doctor. "This is an embarrassing display of affection. We're supposed to keep moving, right?"

He beamed at her. "You actually want to keep moving?"

"Does it look like I have a choice at this point?" She glanced at the spotlight that was still trained on center stage. "Guess we know where the light is coming from now."

"Yeah," the little girl said. "But who lit it?"

"I think I have an idea," said the Doctor. "Stay here."

He walked into the tech booth, half expecting to be met by some horrible trap that had been designed to ensnare him, but all that he found was a red haired woman wearing a green-and-black striped alien t-shirt with a black mesh star skirt. 

"Ginger," he said, sighing with relief.

She regarded him with all the suspicion she'd had the first time they met. "Ginger? Who's Ginger?"

"You," he said. "I hope."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Nobody up here but Earth's most unwanted. Your dog has lost its tag and now it has no name."

"You're not unwanted," the Doctor said. "Not to me. Not ever. I've come to take you away."

"Away?" she asked. "Away where?"

"Anywhere you want to go," he said. "We just can't stay here."

"I've always been here," she said, turning her swivel chair to look out over the stage. 

"But don't you want to go?" he asked. "I know you always wanted to be abducted by aliens."

"That's not in the script," she said. 

"The script?"

She pressed a few buttons on her control panel and made all the lights come up on the stage. "All my world's a stage," she said.

"But you're never on it," he said, noticing the longing look in her eyes. "You miss it, don't you? It's the only thing you love even remotely as much as me."

She gave him an irritable look. "Love you? I don't even know you. But it doesn't do any good to think about a life I can't have. I have to stay hidden. Out of the limelight."

"Ginger-"

"Who's Ginger?"

"That's you."

She laughed. "No, it really isn't."

He decided to change his approach. "I'm sorry. Who are you then?"

"I'm the Doctor," she said, matter of factly.

He genuinely hadn't expected this. "Sorry?"

"The Doctor," she repeated. She lifted a script from the table next to her and handed it to him. "See? All my lines are highlighted."

The cover of the little blue scriptbook read: _Doctor Who: Am I Ginger_? He flipped through the pages and noticed that all the Doctor's lines were highlighted. "Alright," he said. "So where's the rest of your cast?"

"I've always been a bit of a one-woman show," she said. "In drama class, I once ended up reading all the parts to the Crucible because the other kids weren't doing it right." She noticed movement from the door to the loft where the limelight was. "And I see the audience has arrived."

"I can play one of the parts if you like," said the Doctor.

She raised her eyebrows skeptically. "You? And just who would you play?"

He flipped to the list of characters, but only one seemed fitting. "I'll play Ginger."

She laughed as if surprised he had the audacity. "You? Play Ginger? Sure you can handle that challenge? She's a very complex role. Very tricky."

"I'm sure I can handle it," he assured her. "I've been studying."

"Alright," she said, as if impressed. "Let's see what you got."

They were suddenly on the stage. 

"Should we be here?" asked the Doctor. He peered into the audience, surprised that Cupid and the little girl and his other Ginger were out there, but he couldn't see the one who'd been pursuing them.

"Relax," the Ginger that was on stage with him said. "I'm not scared of that bitch."

"What kind of play is this?" the Doctor asked.

"Well not a straight one, that's for damn sure," she replied. "It's a musical, of course. Which scene did you want to do?"

He flipped through the scriptbook and found a scene near the end that seemed fitting. "Left Handed Kisses." He tossed the script to the side.

She looked at him suspiciously. "Have it your way, then. Brace yourself, the Ginger part is up first and the music barely gives you any warning before you have to chime in." She fished a small device out of her pocket that remotely started the music.

He struggled at first to keep up with the pace, but found it easier as time went on.

_"I don't believe everything happens for a reason,"_ he sang.

_"To us romantics out here, that amounts to high treason,"_ she sang.

_"I don't go in for your..."_ He mimed finger quotes. _"Star-crossed lovers."_

_"In the heart of a skeptic..."_ She walked nearer to him.  
_There's a question that still hovers..."_ She was inches from him._ "Near."_

He turned and paced away from her.

_"For it begs the question_   
_How did I ever find you_   
_Now you got me writing love songs_   
_With a common refrain like this one here, baby..."_

She fumed and turned on heel so that she wasn't facing him either before singing her part.

_"And all your left handed kisses_   
_Were just prelude to another_   
_Prelude to your backhanded love song, baby."_

He turned sharply to face her again.

_"But it begs a question_   
_How did I ever find you_   
_Drifting gently through the gyre_   
_Of the great Sargasso sea, Atlantic Ocean_   
_Got me writing love songs_   
_With a common refrain like this one here."_

They paced around each other like caged animals. She moved toward him as if thinking of striking him as she sang.

_"The point your song here misses_   
_Is that if you really loved me_   
_You'd risk more than a few 50 cent_   
_Words in your backhanded love song."_

_"For it begs the question-"_

They sang together, eyes full of tortured longing.

_"How did I ever find you?"_

_"Drifting gently through the gyre,"_ he sang.

_"Of the great Sargasso Sea,"_ they sang together.

_"Atlantic Ocean,"_ he sang.

They were now circling each other and almost touching.

_"The point your song here misses,"_ she sang.

_"You got me writing love songs,"_ he sang.

_"Is that you really love me!"_

_"With a common refrain like this one here, baby..."_

_"Is prelude to another of your backhanded love songs,"_ she turned away again.

He reached out and stopped her, spinning her to face him again and holding her by both arms.

_"Now it's time,"_ he sang. _"For a handsome little bookend."_

_"Now it's time,"_ she sang. _"To tie up all the loose ends."_

"Am I still a skeptic? Or did you-"

They sang together. _"Make me a believer?"_

She sang the final lines_. "If you hesitate, you'll hear the click of the receiver."_

There was a small moment where they looked at each other before he kissed her. She threw her arms around him and kissed him with an intensity that surprised even her.

There was applause from the audience.

"That wasn't in the script!" the little girl said. "But now that I think about it, there wasn't any other way that scene could've gone."

The Doctor and Ginger broke apart and looked at each other breathlessly. "You have a necklace too," he said, lifting the chain to see another fragmented piece. "You didn't have this when I first met you."

The others hopped up on the stage. The Doctor looked from one adult Ginger to the other, noting how much difference a year can make.

"Okay, one of you ladies has to teach me how to do that thing you're doing with your eyes," the little girl demanded. "I've never been able to make my face go like that."

The Ginger who was a year older kept looking at the Doctor as she responded. "I don't think we can teach you that."

"He does," answered the Ginger from the night they met.

"There," Cupid said, pointing at the glowing exit sign at the back of the auditorium. "An exit. I think this is our chance to go. Have you decided which Ginger is yours?"

"I have," the Doctor breathed. "I think I understand."

At that moment, their pursuer came in through the exit door. "Step away from the girls, Doctor," she said.

"I will, I promise," he said. "But answer one question for me-"

"No questions, that's the rule," she snapped. 

"Do you have a necklace?" She paused, so he carried on. "Because these other Ginger all have a piece of a necklace. The necklace I made for her. Candy. Do you have the last piece of Candy?"

She was confused. "I..." She reached under her shirt and pulled on a chain to expose her own part of the necklace. She walked slowly forward to them. "What is this? What does it mean?"

The Doctor turned to Cupid. "You said it before. She's fragmented and she doesn't understand. All of the pieces are her and none of them get along." He motioned for the last Ginger to get on the stage with them, which she did. "Don't be afraid, she won't hurt you," he said. "I know she has in the past, but she was just trying to protect you. Think of her like your mind's immune system. Or, if it helps more, the firewall around your heart. She's a defense mechanism. But more than that, she's Ginger." He turned to the Ginger he'd just done a duet with. "And you're Ginger, exactly as you were the night I met you. And you..." He turned to the other adult Ginger. "You're Ginger as she wants to be now. Happy, in love, safe. Not a care in the world. Comfortably distracted from unpleasant things you'd rather not think about. But more than that, you're Ginger as you think I want you to be." He stepped closer to her. "You think I like this version of you best, but I don't. You don't have to try to be something you're not. I want _all _of you. Not just the shiny parts. Which brings me to you." He turned to the little girl. "I never knew you, exactly. But I did. You never really went away. Ginger sometimes has this childlike innocence and this fondness for the things that brought her comfort when she was your age. Cupid said this was you as he knew you. This is where it began, isn't it? Not everything, of course there was life and darkness before this, but you turned to the stage to comfort you. You could be someone else. So you never learned to be you." He spun in a circle, looking at each of them in turn. "You're _all _Ginger. You're just fragmented. You need to come together again before we can leave."

"How?" asked the defense mechanism.

"Your necklaces," he explained. "They're all a piece of candy. I think you have to bring them together."

The Gingers all clasped their necklaces. "Are you sure about this?" asked the Ginger from closest to his current timeline. "You sure you don't just want to stay here...with me?"

He shook his head. "I need you whole, Ginger. I can't keep you broken."

She nodded and moved to the others, holding out her fragment. "Ready?" They nodded and came to her, putting their pieces together.

"Uh, Mister?" asked the little girl. "There's a piece missing." And so, it seemed, there was. They didn't fit together properly.

"I thought that might happen," the Doctor said. He knelt down in front of the little girl. "You need to let her out."

"Who?"

"You changed back there, just for a moment. You were covered in blood, and just a bit older. You need to let her out."

The little girl shook her head frantically. "No, trust me, you don't want that."

"Doctor," the Ginger from closest to his timeline said. "You really don't want that. Please."

The Doctor continued talking to the little girl. "Ginger, the little girl who waited so very long to be abducted by aliens. You'll have to wait a little longer. But to get there, you have to go through this first. And I'm very sorry."

Tears leaked from her eyes. "Please don't make me grow up. I don't want to be anything more than I am now."

"Don't make me go back, Doctor," said the Ginger from closest to his own timeline. "I can't go through that again."

"It's unavoidable," the Ginger from the night they met said. "You live in it every day." She looked at the Doctor. "It's like Rapunzel. She waited in her tower to be rescued, but nobody ever says what happens after the end of that story. Nobody ever gets out of the tower. You carry yours around with you. Even if you smash it to bits, you'll find yourself building a new tower around yourself from the debris. Why wouldn't you? It's the only home you ever knew." She held out a hand to him. "I can take you there."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded. 

"I still don't understand how you got in," said the defense mechanism.

"She let me in, I told you," he replied.

"Not in here," she said, tapping her head with a finger. "In here." She tapped the same finger against her chest.

He kept his eyes fixed on the Ginger from the night they met as he answered. "I'm not really so clear about that, myself."

He took her hand.


	47. Silence is Golden

The Doctor was in the audience now, sitting between the adults Gingers. The little girl was seated behind him next to Cupid. 

The curtains were closed and a singular spotlight was set on center stage. The defense mechanism climbed into the light.

_"You hold the answers deep within your own mind._   
_Consciously, you've forgotten it._   
_That's the way the human mind works:_   
_whenever something is too unpleasant, to shameful for us_   
_to entertain, we reject it._   
_We erase it from our memories._   
_But the imprint is always there."_

The Ginger to his left, the one that was closest to his own point in the time stream, reached for his arm and rested her head against it. 

"It hasn't even started yet," he said to her.

She sang softly to him.

_"Tell me you will live through this_   
_And I will die for you_   
_Cast me not away_   
_Say you'll be with me_   
_For I know I cannot_   
_Bear it all alone."_

He knew the right line to say to her.

_"You're not alone, honey.  
Never... Never."_

The Ginger to his right, the one from the night they'd met, rolled her eyes. "We're all alone in the end. Don't be stupid."

The defense mechanism glared at them. "It's awfully rude to talk during the show."

"Yes, of course, I'm very sorry," the Doctor said. "Continue."

She smiled and carried on.

"The child was found in a bus station in February 1992," she explained. "It was a cold night, bitter with snow. You could speculate that this got her dislike of cold ingrained in her early."

"I'm sorry," Cupid said softly.

The defense mechanism ignored him. "The child was in three foster homes before she'd reached her first birthday. She was a nuisance, you see, a real crybaby. Wouldn't stop wailing."

"The effects of a Chameleon Circuit on a baby," said Cupid. "Among other things."

"She was also a chatterbox. At nine months old, she said her first word. Anyone want to guess what that was?"

"No!" shouted all the Gingers in the audience.

"Yes, that's right, no," said the defense mechanism. "The word said most often to her. Probably also the word she's said most often. Her second word was 'why'." The curtains parted to show a room with yellowing floral wallpaper and a white-ish carpet. "Ah, look! It must be a special occasion! Mr and Mrs Michaelson have opened the windows and baked cookies! They must really want to hide the smell of cigarettes." The defense mechanism looked to stage left as a small red-haired toddler was brought to the stage. "The child had been given a name by this point, but she didn't feel like it fit. Like all her hand-me-down clothes, it was given to her by someone who didn't care for her much and didn't really suit her. Even as an 11 month old, she had a very real sense of self."

The DHS worker left and Mrs Michaelson, a woman with long brown hair, looked at her with dismay. "Look at the state of this one," she said, messing with the child's hair as her husband lit the cigarette she held in the other hand. "Let's hope she grows into something better."

"Still..." Mr Michaelson said. "At least she doesn't have freckles."

The girl drew away from Mrs Michaelson's touch, crossing her arms close to her chest and looking at the floor in a way that the Doctor was very familiar with.

"Vanessa," Mrs Michaelson said to a teenager with long black hair. "She's staying with you, in Angel's old bed. Make sure she settles in."

Vanessa wasn't happy with this.

"You'd better not cry or wet the bed or anything gross," she said gruffly as the child stood uncomfortably in the center of the bedroom. "In fact, don't talk to me. Don't touch my stuff..." Vanessa looked at the girl. "Why am I bothering? You're a baby. You don't understand anything. Ugh, this is so _unfair_!"

"Not," the little girl said, as Vanessa turned away. Initially, Vanessa ignored the soft voice, thinking it would just be baby-ish jabber. But then she spoke again. "Not. Baby."

Vanessa turned back to her. "Right. Whatever. Just don't touch my stuff, okay?" She plopped down on her own bed and turned towards the wall, pulling headphones over her ears and switching on an old Denon portable CD player.

"Hey..." the Doctor said. "That's your Discman."

The Ginger on his right nodded. "Yeah. It was Vanessa's first."

"It's really odd," the Doctor said. "Hearing you with an American accent. Doesn't feel right."

Both adult Gingers just smiled gratefully at him.

"Still, at least you didn't have a country accent," the Doctor teased. "You couldn't pull that off."

"The other kids were much older than she was, and all pretty much ignored her." The defense mechanism continued. "Vanessa was really no exception. She spent most of her time in the room smoking cigarettes and drinking beer while listening to music or watching their old TV set. The child woke up often from nightmares of a man laughing - accompanied by fire and madness. These dreams gave her splitting headaches, and were accompanied by a sort of drumming sound. She awoke sobbing from this and Vanessa was annoyed. Now being awake, she decided to turn on the TV. The film "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" happened to be playing at the time, and it was just moments before the Pure Imagination scene began. At first, the child still cried, not really able to focus on it. But something about Gene Wilder's voice gradually began to soothe her, and soon she was sitting up in bed giving it her full attention. The pain subsided."

"The child grew to appreciate music more after that experience," the defense mechanism said. "Vanessa only owned 2 CDs, but the child was always hanging around wanting to listen to them. Nirvana and the Pretenders were basically her whole life. Vanessa introduced her to MTV in the hopes that she'd discover something else, but that only made her obsession with music worse. She'd sit for hours just watching music videos. Most of it made no real impact on her - it was just noise to cancel out what was going on in her brain."

Snippets of 'Middle of the Road' by the Pretenders could be heard.

"Of course things would change again in September of the year when she moved in with the Michaelson's. The girl had learned how to work a remote, and Vanessa wasn't much fussed with what she watched. She was always watching old tapes of the Evil Dead in between frequent viewings of the Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast. She'd even gone on to watch Young Frankenstein and Spaceballs, which she loved despite not quite understanding them. But this night she was flipping through the channels looking for something new. She turned to Fox, which had just finished airing a show of some kind and was running credits. She was about to change the channel again when the new show started and caught her attention."

The background music was faint, but eerie as a familiar black and white logo filled the screen. Words on the screen read: "This story is inspired by actual documented accounts".

The defense mechanism continued. "Of course, the girl couldn't yet read, but something about the font combined with the background music held her attention. The little girl watched the entire opening scene with mounting interest, but wasn't really hooked until Mulder and Scully's first scene. You see, despite the fact that the girl laughed in the face of horror movies, she found some of the concepts of the X-Files a bit too spooky to handle. The thing that kept her going was how comforting she found Mulder and Scully, and how much she wished they were her real parents."

The scene changed, and now the little girl was no longer in front of the television. It was the middle of the night, and she'd climbed up onto the roof of the house.

"Of course the X-Files had one more profound effect on the little girl..." the narrator continued. "She was now hopelessly convinced in the-" Mulder's voice came out of her mouth. "-existence of extraterrestrials." Her voice went back to normal. "It was a miracle that the little girl didn't injure herself up on that roof. It was just one of many tricks she was convinced would work to get her abducted by aliens. Though it never quite happened, she never quite gave up hope that it would."

The scene changed again, back to the bedroom.

The defense mechanism continued. "Vanessa died in November 1994, mere months after Kurt Cobain's death and a month after she'd purchased "No Need to Argue" by the Cranberries. Overdosed in her sleep on cough syrup. The girl couldn't really understand what had happened, but since there was nobody around to claim Vanessa's stuff the little girl got her music collection by default. It wasn't much, but it was something. She became interested in learning how to read when she wasn't even 3 years old, and nobody had any interest in teaching her so they got a computer game called Reader Rabbit to do it for her."

"Rabbit, huh?" the Doctor asked, smiling at the Ginger to his left.

"Don't start," she smiled back, softly. "Wow," she breathed. "I'd forgotten about that game."

"She quickly powered through the game," the defense mechanism said. "But it didn't satisfy her. She begged to be given a library card and also spent a great deal of time hanging round a comic book store at the end of the street. If she wasn't watching music videos or learning how to use a computer, she was reading something. If the movie Matilda had been out when she'd been that young, she would've related to it immensely."

The film cut to the little girl in a library reading from a dictionary.

"What's this word?" the girl asked, tilting the book towards a librarian.

The Doctor blinked in surprise. "Hang on...Is that...?"

Ginger turned around to find that Cupid was gone. "Yeah. I didn't even realize it til now."

Cupid was dressed not in his normal flamboyant attire, but in a simple tweed suit. His hair was short and brown, and he was wearing thick glasses. "Contrary," he said, in a rather posh English accent that made Ginger flinch. "Don't you want a nice picture book?"

"No, I want words," she said. "What does it mean? Con...con..."

"Trary," Cupid replied. "It means opposite. Or someone who purposely does the opposite of what's expected."

"I like that one, it's pretty," the girl said. She pulled a crayon and a napkin from her pocket and jotted it down on her list.

"What do you have there?" he asked.

"List," said the girl. "Words I like."

"Which words do you like?"

"Most of them," she admitted. "But especially the pretty ones. Like...fish. That's a pretty word. Sounds pretty out loud. Like alien. And contrary, and starling, and kitten, and haunting, and oblivion..."

"Some of those are big words," he said. "How old are you now, my dear? Have they told you?"

"Three," the girl said. "I think. They said I'm three. I also like 'time'. That's a word you can eat too. It's messmareyesing."

Cupid squinted as he tried to figure out what she meant. "Do you mean mesmerizing, my dear?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, that one. It's even prettier than it was on my list. I had to hear it out loud."

"Do you know what half those words mean?"

"Sort of," she admitted. "Almost. I'm trying to understand."

"But none of this was happening in a vacuum," the narrator said. "Her foster parents were taking notice."

"Why doesn't she play with the other kids?" Mr Michaelson asked, gruffly. "Why does she just sit by herself all the time?"

"She's weird," Mrs Michaelson agreed. "She doesn't do normal kid things. And she's still too skinny - and I can't do anything with that hair! I'd hoped she would be prettier by now."

"Prettier?" the Doctor asked, mortally offended by this. "You...were 3 years old."

Ginger nodded, gravely. "Yes."

"Many children are picky eaters," the narrator said. "But this child was on a special level all her own. She loved nearly every vegetable put in front of her, but if you tried to feed her ground meat in any form she'd have a fit."

"No wonder you're still so skinny," Mrs Michaelson said, in despair. "You won't eat anything fattening. You know boys will never like you if you look like a corpse all the time."

"You were 3!" the Doctor said, becoming properly angry.

Ginger hushed him, feeling fond of him.

"Then," the defense mechanism said. "One day when she was 4 years old, everything changed. The Michaelson's were unable to afford preschool, but Mrs Michaelson told the state that she did that for herself. After all, she was a stay at home mom. So that's how the child was the only one home when Mrs Michaelson overdosed."

The little girl walked into the living room to find Mrs Michaelson passed out on the couch with a needle in her arm.

"She didn't really understand what was going on," the defense mechanism said. "But she knew it was bad." The little girl shook her foster mother, trying to wake her up. She stirred, faintly.

"Mrs Michaelson had once been a nurse, so she recognized what was happening to her."

"In the bag," Mrs Michaelson slurred, trying to gesture. "In the bag. Help."

The little girl knew by now that she should call for help, and rushed to the phone. "No," her foster mother said. "You can't call. You have to...in my bag. Tube. With a needle. Naloxone. I know...you can read."

The girl ran to the bag and found what she was looking for. She handed it to her foster mother, who used the little girl to prop herself up as she tried to stab the needle into her own leg. But she kept missing. "You...have to do it," the woman said, handing the needle back to the girl.

"There's no way," the Doctor said.

But the girl did it. She did it clumsily, and while causing a bit of bruising, but she did.

"Mr Michaelson was a doctor-" the defense mechanism began.

The Doctor scoffed, now definitely offended by this.

"So he had access to bring home all kinds of drugs and antidotes. They were always experimenting, but they liked heroin the best. After the little girl saved her life, they taught her on how to properly administer naloxone so that she could save their lives if they ever needed it. Her foster parents started leaving her alone more after she did this."

"Maybe you can be useful after all," Mr Michaelson said. "Maybe you won't ever make us any money like Vanessa did...but you can still be useful."

"It turned out that most of the teenage girls in the house were experimenting with hard drugs in some way, so the little girl was tasked with ensuring they survived their experimentations."

"Excuse me, what?" the Doctor asked, enraged.

"The little girl was becoming more aware by the day that something was amiss in the world around her. She was beginning to understand things she couldn't yet comprehend. She was left to her own devices most of the time, but if anything did go wrong she was expected to deal with the consequences herself."

"Oh you scraped your knee?" Mrs Michaelson mocked. "Go clean it in the bathroom. There's water and peroxide and bandaids in there."

"Not exactly motherly, was she?" the Doctor said under his breath.

"I could take care of myself," said the Ginger on his right.

The defense mechanism continued on. "Things weren't great. She was restless and dissatisfied. Her imagination ran wild and she felt stifled by where she was. But she could soothe her mind with the help of a little music."

The scene cut to the little girl sitting on her bed watching MTV. A familiar music video was playing.

"1996 was a good year for music," the narrator said. "Her awareness shifted, and suddenly she was collecting music on her own. A few music videos cycled through her awareness - first "Stupid Girl" by Garbage. She felt a strange connection to this song that she'd never felt with anything prior. She was only 4 years old, sure, but something about this one...made sense to her. And she couldn't quite explain why. The same thing happened again months later when the music video for "Shadowboxer" by Fiona Apple first played. Watching that video made her feel inexplicably like all the air had been sucked from the room. It emotionally punched her in the chest and rendered her speechless, and again she couldn't explain why. The last time this happened was months after that when No Doubt's "Excuse Me Mr" music video first played. With this one she was mostly fascinated by the musical arrangement, even though she felt closer to understanding the emotion behind it."

The Doctor smiled. "Yeah, that seems like you," he teased.

She found out what a record store was that year. She saved up some allowance money and went down there one day. She put all her money on the counter. "Garbage," she said, not knowing yet how to effectively communicate.

The girl at the counter looked up from her magazine. "What?"

"Garbage," the girl repeated.

"Where are your parents?" the shopgirl asked. "How old are you?"

"Four, I think," the little girl said.

"Joanie, that's one of the Michaelson's kids," another shop assistant whispered. The look of dawning sadness on Joanie's face surprised and confused the little girl.

"I want Garbage," the girl repeated. "Stupid Girl."

"Oh, I see," Joanie said. "Yeah, we're all out of Garbage right now. Anything else?"

"Fiona Apple," the girl said.

"The little girl didn't know what album titles were," the narrator said. "She had taken to calling 'No Need to Argue' by the Cranberries 'the couch cd')."

"Shadowboxer," the girl continued.

"What do you want with Shadowboxer?" Joanie asked, a bit surprised and amused. "Bit of a big word, isn't it? Bit of a big concept for a four year old. Don't you want one of those kids CDs?"

She made a face. "The ones where they count and do numbers and stuff? Gross. You don't have Fiona Apple?"

"She's also sold out, I'm afraid," Joanie said. "You're asking for all the newest popular stuff."

"Then No Doubt," the little girl insisted. "Excuse Me Mr."

"We're out of that album too, sorry," Joanie said. "We have some older No Doubt if you want it, though. Their first album isn't bad. If you like Excuse Me Mr, you'll like 'Trapped in a Box'."

Joanie showed the little girl to the area where that CD was, while being a bit bemused by the whole experience. While she was examining the CD, she noticed the song playing on the shop's sound system.

"What's that?" she asked.

"That?" Joanie asked. "You wouldn't like that, it's not for kids."

"Not a kid," the girl insisted, crossing her arms. "I like it. What is it?"

Joanie was stumped, not expecting any of this to go on as it was. "It's not something they play on MTV, we don't even sell it in store. It's a demo I got my hands on at a show."

"A...demo?"

"That's not...that's not the name of the band," Joanie said, as if reading her mind. "It's...not even an appropriate name for a child to hear."

"But I like it," the girl said. "I have money. What is it?"

Joanie was stumped. On the one hand, she believed in raising the next generation to like good music, but...she didn't know if she was supposed to do this. "Shouldn't we, um...get your parents permission?" Then she remembered who her parents were at the moment. "Uh you know what...they probably wouldn't care. I still don't think you need to be listening to Jack Off Jill or even Bikini Kill at your age. What else do you listen to?"

"Nirvana, Pretenders, that one CD with the couch on it-"

"Nirvana's a good start," Joanie said. "Yeah, we can work with that. So you definitely listen to Hole, right?"

"Hole?"

"Courtney Love's band."

Her brow furrowed. "That's the lady who killed him, right? Kurt Cobain?"

Joanie rolled her eyes and sighed in a long-suffering way. "No. Most of the things they tell you about her aren't true. Some of them are, she's not like...a perfect person to aspire to or anything but like...You should listen to Hole. It'll change everything."

The Doctor shook his head. "It's weird to think of you ever not defending Courtney Love. It's weird to think that you weren't born fully formed with the music taste you have. That it all...built up. And that someone gave a Hole record to a 4 year old."

"I don't remember that either," Ginger shook her head. "I'm almost impressed with little me. She knows what she's after."

"As much as she discovered as a 4 year old," the defense mechanims continued. "There was still more to see. At age 5, she started seeing advertisements for an upcoming show called 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and stayed up all night to watch the premier. And a few months after that, she started to hear of a new book called 'Harry Potter'. She checked it out from the library out of curiosity, and instantly fell in love. This was like no other kind of love she'd had before - it surpassed the X-Files and Buffy entirely. There was a connection she felt to Harry that she hadn't felt to a character before. And she wished that could be her life. She hoped against hope that she'd get a Hogwarts letter, and it gave her a renewed vigor to prove that aliens were real. Because there was no way witchcraft was really a thing, but aliens were still plausible. That's what led her to buy the book herself, and begin her collection."

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" her kindergarten teacher asked.

"A rock star," she said, without even thinking.

"The thought always consumed her," the defense mechanism said. "Even at that age, she wanted to perform. But it wasn't just that. She knew that being a rock star meant you'd get to travel. And she had this almost claustrophobic view of the world around her. Sometimes if she really thought about it...she felt as if the world was too small for her. And the thought paralyzed her, making it quite hard to breathe and giving her one of her headaches. She wanted to see more of life than what she'd been given, and she saw that as her only shot."

Her kindergarten teacher just smiled kindly. "Do you have any fallback plan? What would you like to be if you can't be a rock star?"

"I don't know," the little girl shrugged. "An alien or a witch, I guess. Something more than human."

The Doctor smiled. "Really reminds me a lot of..." he realized what he'd been about to say. "Someone I used to know at that age." This thought really troubled him, as he'd been about to say 'the Master'.

"But then..." the defense mechanism said. "Things changed again."

The little girl found herself sitting in a cold white room.

"She was now 6 years old and the year was 1998," the narrator said. "She'd been in school for over a year, and had tons of problems with it. She couldn't seem to focus, she didn't really want to do her schoolwork, and she kept getting into fights with the other students. Getting into fights was the phrase the teachers used...it was always the other kids who started roughing her up first. But she was weird and never stopped talking about Harry Potter and aliens - and who even knew where she'd picked up those swear words - so the teachers blamed her for it. But that wasn't the problem that led to her being in the child services office that day. The call came to the police at just past 4 o'Clock in the afternoon. The girl had arrived home from school before the other children, so she was the one to make the call."

"Nine one one, what's your emergency?" came the voice on the other end of the line.

"Yes, hi, I just got home from school and I tried waking her up, but she wouldn't," the girl said, far too calmly and matter-of-factly. "I know I'm not supposed to use this number, but I need to be told what to do next and there aren't any other grownups home."

"You have to know how to do when?" the operator asked. "What's your name? How old are you? Where are your parents?"

"She ignored a request for a name," said the defense mechanism. "Finding the one she'd been assigned distasteful."

"I'm 6," the girl said. "And I don't have any parents. Got people who are keeping me, but Mrs Michaelson is passed out again and I think it's heroine again. I checked her pulse and breathing, but she didn't have any. Gave her naloxone like usual, but she didn't wake up. Was gonna try CPR, but don't know how. I've read about it, but I think I'll do it wrong."

The phone operator was horrified. "I'm sorry, what? You said you're 6?"

"Yeah."

"And let me get this straight, you found a grownup passed out and gave her naloxone?"

"Right, that's what I'm normally supposed to do, so I did it."

"This isn't a joke?" asked the operator hopefully.

"No, she's not breathing," the girl replied. "So what do I do?"

"Do you know your address?" the operator said. "Help will be on the way shortly to your location."

The defense mechanism picked up the story from this point. "The police found her sitting in the kitchen, reading a book. She was calm and almost indifferent to Mrs Michaelson, even after she was told that she'd died before the girl got home. The police were troubled by this. The other children, who were mostly quite a bit older than the girl, expressed a sort of relief that she was dead. They opened up about the sort of abuse they'd faced there. But the girl just wanted to read her book. At first they thought it was shock, but they soon became more concerned."

A woman was speaking with the little girl and jotting things down on a notepad. "{Redacted}-" she began.

"Sorry, hold on," the Doctor said, mildly confused. "Say that again?"

"{Redacted}," the woman said again. Of course she didn't actually say 'redacted', it was more of a general blurring out of the sound. Every time she said the little girl's name, a black bar appeared over her mouth and suddenly they couldn't hear it.

"You're still trying to hide your name from me?" he asked. "After all this, you're still afraid?"

"It's not that..." the Ginger on his right admitted. "I'm not...it doesn't feel like...I'm hiding it. It's just not...me. It never felt like me. So it's not relevant. But I'm not gonna dub over it to make it say 'Ginger' because I wasn't 'Ginger' yet, and I don't wanna muddy that name by associating it with this...Look. Every time some celebrity has a stage name, somebody on wikipedia wants to put her 'birth name' in the article. It's always treated like a 'real name' and a cool piece of trivia. I'd rather not, if you don't mind. It's...disrespectful to me. This is who I am. This is my real name, the one I chose. And I don't want people going around pretending any different."

The Doctor looked at her steadily for a moment. "You're right," he said, finally. "I understand." 

"{Redacted}," the woman said. "Do you understand why you're here?"

"You're taking me away from the Michaelson's?" the little girl asked.

"Yes," the woman said. "But do you understand why?"

"She's dead, right?" the girl asked. "Mrs Michaelson? She wasn't very nice. Did I do something wrong?"

"What makes you think you did something wrong?"

"It should always work, right? The naloxone? She's stopped breathing before, but that usually works. So I did the wrong thing, right? I messed up? Because if I'd done it right, she'd still be alive, right?" The girl wasn't troubled so much by Mrs Michaelson being dead as she was by the thought of it being somehow her fault. She couldn't let herself linger on that thought for too long. "Are you an alien?"

"What?" the woman asked, startled by the change in conversation. "No. Why would you think that?"

"This room is antiseptical," the girl said. "Am I...saying that right? Anti...antiseptical?"

"Antiseptic?" the woman offered.

"Yes, right, that," the girl latched on to it. "Too sterile, I think is the other word I just learned. Clean. Proper. Very white and bright. Like an alien pretending to be human."

"Does that frighten you?"

"No, I want you to take me back to your ship. I've been trying to get abducted for years."

The woman looked worried. "I'm not an alien, {Redacted}."

"That's what an alien would say, but I'm not gonna tell-"

"Honestly, I'm not."

"Oh, well...that's disa...disa..."

"Disappointing?"

"Yes, that," she nodded. She leaned across the table and whispered in a hushed voice. "Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?"

"Those are big words, {Redacted}."

The girl rolled her eyes and groaned, leaning back in her seat. "Everyone always says that, but they don't listen to the words I say."

"I'm listening."

The girl sat up suddenly. "Are you from Hogwarts? I know I'm a bit young, but I'm really really smart and-"

"I'm not from Hogwarts. Do you really believe in all that stuff?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"I think it's natural to cope with difficult thing by...creating fantasy worlds. Do you...understand what's happened to you?"

"What's happened to me?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. The other children - the older ones - they all reported things when we asked them. Did the Michaelson's ever make you do things, {Redacted}?"

"They made me eat hamburgers."

"I mean anything you didn't want to do."

"I didn't want to eat hamburgers, they taste like they've been chewed already."

"{Redacted}," the woman said, patiently. "Did the Michaelson's ever let any of their friends touch you? Did any of them ever give you things after that made you feel better or forget for a while?"

This sort of confused her. "No."

"It's alright, they can't hurt you here. You can tell me if they did things to you."

"They didn't. Besides hitting me sometimes when I was bad or making me eat things I didn't want to."

But she could tell the lady didn't believe her.

She was placed with a new foster family, who got her a therapist who medicated her heavily.

"She's very clearly autistic," this new doctor said. "I think medicating her and doing therapy will fix that right up. We should also work on processing what happened to her in the last home she was in."

"You see," the defense mechanism said. "The little girl wasn't old enough to understand this, but her foster parents had been arrested for running a child brothel out of their home in order to pay for drugs. They had all the older kids in on it, in exchange for drugs. The therapists assumed that the little girl was blocking out these memories, but she really just didn't have them...She'd been mercifully spared that fate, as she'd been considered too ugly and thin to be useful in that respect. As she grew older and started to realize exactly what had been happening there, she began to count herself lucky - being 'ugly' had been the best defense she could've had. It protected her when nothing else would."

The Doctor was livid. "I can't believe that they did that."

"People are evil-" Ginger began.

The other Ginger, the one from closer in his time stream, tightened her hold on his arm. She couldn't remember a time when she'd seen him so angry. "Doctor, you need to save that energy. It's not even the bad part yet."

"There's no way," the Doctor said. "There's no way that was the good part."

The Ginger from closer to his timestream shrugged. "It was the 90s. It was all relative."

The defense mechanism carried on. "Her time at the new foster home didn't last long. Within a year, she'd gotten into so many fights that she was shipped off to another one. And that one didn't manage to last a year either. The one notable thing to happen in that foster home was that she learned how to properly use the internet to pirate content, and also Y2K happened. But then in 2000, she was shipped off to her 6th foster home."

The little girl was stepping into a pristine little house. "Well," she said to herself. "This definitely has to be hell."

"She was 8 years old," the narrator said. "But she'd been listening to a lot of punk. Up until then, she'd been smack-dab in the middle of the city. Suddenly she found herself in the suburbs and she just...hated it with every fiber of her being. It felt fake. She started a new school with people who bullied her again, and became obsessed with reading history books about witch trials. Things changed forever when she finally started middle school in 2001. Her school had a special arts grant, so she got to step up on stage for the first time."

"Settle down, kids, settle down," the drama teacher said. It was Cupid, except this time with dark, curly hair and a beard.

"This is the part I remember," Ginger said. "This is why I was angry with Cupid. I didn't understand."

Cupid was American in this disguise. "I'm Mr Loveless, your drama teacher. I know I look normal right now, but every day I'll be wearing a new costume and doing a new accent. What better way to teach acting than to teach by example?"

"He actually did that," the Ginger on his left said, chuckling. "That's why I couldn't recognize him. I'd never seen him in his real form."

"Let have a role call then we can get started with some simple exercises," Cupid continued. "Now we're going to go around the room and say what you'd like to be called." He looked directly at {redacted}. "How about you, kid?"

"Me?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Like...you wanna know my name?"

"Doesn't have to be what your parents call you," he insisted. "This is an acting class. Give us a stage name."

She thought about it. "Ruby. Ruby Fell. It's the name of this character in these stories I'm writing."

He beamed. "Ruby is a wonderful name. Nice to meet you, Ruby."

"He was the only one who called her Ruby," the defense mechanism said. "She didn't feel like it was the name she was looking for, but it worked for now. But she did well in that class. It was the first place she ever thrived."

"Now remember, kids," Mr Loveless would say. "The great thing about theatre is it teaches us that we can be whoever we want to be. There are no limits to who or what we can turn out to be."

"About a month into her first semester," the defense mechanism said. "The twin towers fell. The girl wasn't directly effected, but it changed the world around her. Not that the 90s had been perfect at all, but any delusions of safety fell away as the world became more conservative. Bush was elected, and little towns in Tennessee like hers became just that little bit more hostile to the weirdos."

"Do you like boys?" a mean girl asked her at lunch one day.

"No," the girl answered, not knowing she was walking into a trap.

"So you're a lesbian," the bully replied. She began getting the other kids to bully her for being gay.

"Of course," the defense mechanism said. "If the girl had been asked if she liked girls, she would've said no as well. She didn't particularly like anyone, if she was being honest. She wanted to be left alone. She never had crushes or made friends, she just sat alone and became a target for homophobic abuse. And church wasn't much better."

The scene changed to a rather large church where the girl sat, bored.

"Her new foster parents forced her to go with the group," the defense mechanism said. "She hated it. She didn't much like the stories in their little book, and thought the whole lot of them were a bunch of hypocrites. She got into shouting matches a lot."

Mr Loveless found her one Sunday skipping church by hiding in one of the back rooms of the church house. 

"Are you alright?" he asked her, still trying to sound professional and detached. "I noticed you weren't out with the congregation." He noticed her raiding the cupboards. "What in heaven's name are you doing?"

She winced. "Not in heaven's name, never in heaven's name."

"I was only coming to say that they're likely to notice you're gone any minute and then you'll be in trouble again," he said, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. 

"That's the idea, yeah." She found what she was looking for in the refrigerator. "Aha! Communion wine! Now I'll _really _get in trouble!" She took a swig and frowned. "It just tastes like cranberry juice..."

"Because it _is _cranberry juice," he said.

"Oh. So I grabbed the one for the kid's communion by mistake. Where's the stuff they use on you guys?"

"We also get cranberry juice."

She tilted her head. "But it's supposed to be wine, right?"

"Yes, if this were a Catholic church. If you hadn't noticed, you're in a Methodist congregation."

"_Ugh_, that's so frustrating!" She kicked the refrigerator. "How am I supposed to rebel without getting drunk?"

"Have you ever _been _drunk?"

"No, but they'd just _hate _it."

"They'd _also _hate that you're stealing," he pointed out. "That's got to count for something, right?"

She brightened. "Yeah, it does."

"I can't condone this," he said. 

"But you're also not gonna turn me in for it either." She smugly crossed her arms. "So go on. Walk away, pretend you saw nothing. Be, what's the word, complicit."

He crossed his arms in response, trying to take a firm stance. "Why are you so dead-set on rebelling anyway?"

"These people are terrible," she said. "I'm just being honest about being terrible."

"But is that the only reason?"

"I was bored. And they wouldn't let me ask questions. I don't get that. If I was a god, I'd want to be asked questions. There's no point to anything if people can't look for answers."

"Ineffability never did sit right with you."

"I also don't like the idea of someone watching me, spinning my life however they want for their own purpose. I'd much rather make my own destiny, thank you very much."

Mr Loveless beamed at her, though she didn't understand why. "And you can. You can _choose _to do something different. You don't have to do things just to prove that you can."

She thought this was a strange comment. "Hey, Mr Loveless? Can I ask...You're always dressed in different costumes at school, but every time at church you're in this one." She gestured to his nice suit and curly dark hair and beard. "Some of the others think maybe this is what you really look like."

"But you don't?"

She shook her head.

"And why's that?" he pressed.

"Because you turn up sometimes without a beard," she explained. "It would be real hard to grow it back like this in time for church every week. So I think it's another fake to throw us off."

He tried unsuccessfully to stop his pride from showing in his face. "You are _uncannily _perceptive." He lifted the beard slightly from the right side before replacing it as if nothing had happened. "But don't tell anyone."

"She did get in trouble for stealing the cranberry juice," the defense mechanism said. "But nothing mattered, as long as she could still be on the stage. She rose quickly in her theatre circles - not making any friends, but also being equal measures respected and envied by how she was a natural at performing. Mr Loveless sensed that she wasn't very happy at home, so he let her stay after class to have private acting lessons. He even helped as a vocal coach. She did talent shows every year - earning a 3rd place ribbon for her 6th grade performance of 'These Boots Were Made for Walkin'" by Nancy Sinatra. This made her believe that boots were lucky, and you'd be hard pressed to find her wearing another kind of shoes from that moment on. And as far as plays, she didn't get many starring roles at first. The plays were joint productions of the drama, choral, and dance departments. Even if he'd thought any of the roles that existed in these plays were a good fit for her, he couldn't override a majority vote. She wasn't considered protagonist material and was always relegated to the role of narration - especially after she got her first pair of glasses in the 6th grade."

"Hey kid," Mr Loveless said, looking at the way she peered at her script and held it about an inch from her face. "You ever think you might need glasses? I'm gonna write a note home to your parents advising that..."

"But she finally got serious in 7th grade when she badly wanted the role of the Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland," the Narrator continued. "She shaped up and got actually good at what she did, but she was still snubbed for the role in favor of someone who looked more like the part but couldn't act. The girl took great offense to this slight and never quite got over it."

"I worked really hard for this?" she sulked later. "And Megan got the part? Can you just give me a good reason why?"

"I just don't really see you as a villain, Ruby," Mr Loveless said to her. "Not because you can't be, but because you don't have to be. The Queen of Hearts is just a one-dimensional villain. You're not. You're too good for that. I want you to remember that you don't have to be the villain. You don't have to let anyone turn you into that. You can make your own story and change the ending."

She rolled her eyes. "Still sucks."

"Come on, now," he said, feeling a bit guilty. "You've got to at least get your choreography down. Let's start it from the top of 'How Do You Do and Shake Hands."

"He felt he had to make it up to her after that," the narrator explained. "So he cast her as Viola in Twelfth Night."

"I get to be the lead?" she asked, stunned.

"Yes you do," Mr Loveless said, smiling. "You were the lead in the last play too, I don't understand why this is different?"

"I get to be the _lead_? In a _Shakespeare?_"

"You do, yes," he chuckled. "I think you're finally ready. Besides, think you'll enjoy the cross-dressing."

"Hang on," she paused, having a sudden thought. "I don't have to, you know...do _kissing_, do I?"

He chuckled again, barely suppressing a smile. "No, you don't have to do that. Don't worry."

"This is gonna be fun!" she grinned. "I mean, it's no Hamlet, but it'll do." She had another thought. "Can we do Hamlet next?"

He appeared nervous. "Oh I don't think so, pumpkin. Think we'd better steer clear of that one. Bit heavy."

"I can do heavy," she insisted. "I'd make a _great _Ophelia."

"I have no doubt you would," he replied, clearly uncomfortable. "But you're 13. Shouldn't bother yourself with that kind of madness. Now, do you want to play a word game?" The little girl nodded eagerly. 

"Mr Loveless had picked up on her love of words right from the beginning," said the defense mechanism. "They'd spent most of her first year playing games that involved breaking down words by etymology and tracking their history. To anyone else, it would've been a boring exercise. But the girl loved it. Sometimes she'd bring him a word on her own."

"Would you like to rehearse, Ruby?" asked Mr Loveless.

"Rehearse," she repeated. "From hearse. Dead words from dead men, over and over til they lose what life was left in them."

"Ah so you've stumbled on the French," he said. "Yes, hearse and rehearse are related words. Harrowing is also related."

The defense mechanism continued with the story. "Her interest in languages was so vast that in 6th grade, Mr Loveless started her learning French. They'd practice new words and phrases every day. She picked it up so quickly that he was teaching her Japanese in year 7th grade, and had her on Latin by 8th grade. 

"It was negligent of me to not start you on Latin right away," Mr Loveless said. "It would've helped you with your French _and _your English."

"Did you know Echo is Latin from Greek?" she asked, peering at the mythology book he'd loaned her.

"Yes," he smiled fondly. "I was aware. Many words are Latin from Greek. The Romans were obsessed with the Greeks and the English were obsessed with the Romans...or, at least, that's the simplified way of looking at it."

"Echo was a nymph who was obsessed with Narcissus," she said, not having been paying attention. 

"Ah yes," he said sadly. "She pined for him until nothing was left but her voice."

She scoffed. "Is that supposed to be romantic?"

"It's supposed to be a tragedy," he replied.

"Yeah, I guess it's that, but it's sort of stupid."

"How so?"

"Girl gets obsessed and then just like lets herself basically die? That's stupid. Unrealistic. Like what makes Narcissus so special that she's got to go and die for him?"

"It's a fair point," said Mr Loveless. 

"Love is a stupid, silly idea."

"I wouldn't call what Echo had for him love."

"You wouldn't?"

He smiled at her. "Would you be happy to know that there's a better word?"

"Tell me!"

He chuckled. "The Greeks would call it Eros. It's a type of passion that can be very superficial and obsessive. It can be very dangerous if not kept in check. Balance is a very important thing to have."

"Mr Loveless also cast her as Emily Dickinson in an experimental play about Emily Dickinson's life that he'd devised," said the defense mechanism.

"I thought you might be able to relate to Emily," he said when he explained that she'd be playing the lead.

"He was right," the narrator said. "And this wasn't all that Mr Loveless helped her discover. She'd been a Scooby Doo fan all her life, and the live action films came out around then. Mr Loveless loaned her a copy of the B-52's greatest hits after he heard her humming "Love Shack" after she'd heard it in Scooby Doo. He also loaned her some Queen to get her through her last winter break, and when she came back she had a lot to talk about."

"Did you see the news?" she asked, excitedly.

"About what particularly?" asked Mr Loveless, though he was sure he had a pretty good idea. "And say it in an accent!"

She sighed and switched to a Welsh accent, since that's the one she'd been practicing the most. "On Christmas! There were all those mannequins running around! It was aliens! Definitely aliens! People can't say I'm crazy now!"

"You know, I did see the news about that," Mr Loveless said with a fond smile. "Though I never doubted you. I've always known aliens were real, we just have to look harder. They could be right in front of us."

"This...this has to be the good part," the Doctor said.

"It was," the Ginger on his right said, misty eyed. "As good as it could possibly get, before I met you."

"So what happened next?" the Doctor asked.

"I went to high school," the Ginger on his left whispered. She was shaking slightly, tears falling onto his sleeve.

"You alright?" the Doctor asked her, gently.

She nodded, unable to speak. That convinced him that she wasn't.

"We push on through, right?" the Doctor said, bracingly. "Whatever happens...I'm right here."

"You won't be," she whispered. "If you see me. You'll hate me."

"I won't hate you," the Doctor said, softly. "I promise."

"High school was a massive disappointment after her middle school years," the defense mechanism said. "There was no money for an arts program at the high school level, so she was left without any real way to channel her energy. She'd tried to petition the school board and get other people interested in leading a protest-"

"That _definitely _sounds like you," the Doctor smiled.

"But nobody cared enough in that sport-centric town," the narrator continued. "So there she was, all on her own without an outlet. And the bullying was only getting worse."

A montage of scenes of the little girl getting beat up and pushed around began to play. She always fought back, but that's what got her into trouble. She retaliated one day by smashing a girl's windshield with a baseball bat, and her foster parents decided they were at the end of their rope with her.

Her foster mother sat her down. "{Redacted}, we've heard of a great Christian program for autistic foster children with behavioral problems. We're going to send you there to get a cure."

"They _what_?" the Doctor asked, outraged.

"That was their way of washing their hands of her," the defense mechanism said. "They didn't feel there was any other way to get her adopted, and they certainly didn't want her around anymore. It was November 2006, and she was being sent to live in the country near Nashville. It was the furthest from Memphis she'd ever gotten to go. And she wasn't fooled. She did her research on the place and saw that they would remove all her music and books when she got there, so she did the only thing she could think of to do. Her foster parents got her to the Greyhound station and put the ticket in her hand. They weren't stupid either, they knew if they left her alone she'd try to make a break for it - even at 14 she had the instinct to run. But she'd picked up a few tricks in her day, and she faked bumping into someone on the way and switched out their tickets in the commotion. Then when her foster mother looked at the ticket again in front of the buses, she only looked at the bus number - she wasn't looking at all toward the destinations. So that's how she ended up on a one-way trip to Nashville instead. It was getting cold outside and the girl was doing her best to hide from police that would be sure to take her to the academy. So she found an abandoned building in the city to squat in while she pilfered food from local stores. She always made sure to carefully hide all her things under a floorboard when she left and to never take it with her - just in case she got caught. So when she was caught one snowy day in early December, all her stuff was safely tucked away."

"So this is her," Mr Thomas, the man who ran the informal home-schooling academy for wayward girls said when she was forced to sit before him. "We've been looking everywhere for you, {Redacted}."

"Don't call me that, I hate that," the girl spat.

"It's your name."

"It's not."

"I don't like the looks of this guy," the Doctor said.

Mr Thomas was a short, dark-haired fellow with a bad temper and a mole on the back of his head that looked as if his brain was leaking out.

"Mr Thomas was in his early 40s around this time," explained the defense mechanism. "And was married to a young woman who hadn't yet hit 30. He started the program a decade prior, just after he'd married his second and last wife. There was no staff at this informal academy - it was run like a weird sort of family. His aim was to rehabilitate autistic children. There were children from across the spectrum."

"This is Iris," Mr Thomas said, pushing the girl roughly into a bedroom. "She's our only natural daughter. She's a model for the program's success."

Iris looked up from her Bible, her long brown hair falling to her waist. She was wearing a denim dress.

"Always with those damn denim dresses," the Ginger on his right breathed.

"We wake before dawn every morning to do chores," Iris explained to her once the others were gone. "Then we go to bed right after evening prayer. We go to prayer classes with father in the afternoons and get taught whatever school stuff we need to know. Sometimes you get to skip class to do other tests."

"Yeah, pass," the girl scoffed.

The scene cut to the girl having another nightmare in her strange new bed.

"It was harder to soothe herself here," the defense mechanism continued. "Her music was tucked away in Nashville somewhere and she couldn't turn to Harry Potter or any of her shows. She was entirely alone. And empty. But still, she'd tell herself, at least she was being fed. She'd sneak out at night to the cornfield behind the house and beg for aliens to come abduct her. She remembered seeing news coverage of the aliens from the Christmas before. She'd finally been vindicated - she knew for sure the aliens were real. So she only had to wait, was her rationale."

"Look I get the value of faith, I really do," the girl posed the question over dinner one night. "But I don't get the value of following faith blindly. I'm all for gut instincts or whatever, but when it comes at the cost of your free will, it just bothers me."

"It was always ill advised when the girl tried to bring up complicated philosophical or political stances in this house," the defense mechanism said. "She just wanted to learn and to understand, so she couldn't quite help herself. But it always got her into trouble."

"Can't we just have one night of peace?" Mr Thomas snapped. "One night without your blasphemy?"

"I just wish someone would give me a logical answer," the girl sulked.

"I just wish someone would give me a logical answer," Iris mimicked her in a nasally voice, pretending to push up imaginary glasses. The other children giggled.

The girl narrowed her eyes. "Are you going to contribute to the conversation, Iris, or are you just going to act stupid?"

"Are you going to keep talking like anyone cares what you think?" Iris sneered. "Like can't you just shut up for once? This is why nobody likes you. You won't get cured if you keep letting your head fill up with stupid stuff."

"Iris, that's unkind-" Mrs Thomas chastised her.

"At least I don't care what people think about me," the girl shot back. "I don't have to go around acting like a brainwashed little bitch all the time."

The girls came to blows, as they normally did, and Mr Thomas let it go on for a moment before Mrs Thomas broke them up.

"Iris," she said. "Go to your room."

"But-"

"Now, Iris."

Mrs Thomas dragged the little red haired girl to the bathroom.

"You know some very nasty language," Mrs Thomas said. "That kind of language is not appropriate or ladylike. It is not tolerated in this house and it is not tolerated by God." She grabbed a bar of soap and attempted to wash her mouth out with it, but the girl just bit down on it out of instinct and spat it back in her face. "I can see I'll have to resort to more drastic measures." She took a bit of liquid soap and forced it into the girl's mouth. She accidentally swallowed some of it, and ended up gagging.

"Oh my God," Ginger said, suddenly realizing something. "That's why I can't stand even the smell of pure soap anymore. Because she used to wash my mouth out like this all the time. I always have to have different scents. If something smells like soap I just can't handle it."

The girl came into the room on Christmas night to see Mr Thomas was watching a news program on the only TV in the house. It only played news stations, so it was never any use to her before that moment.

"News out of London," the newscaster was saying. "Another big spaceship in the sky. Robotic Santas-"

"Another hoax," Mr Thomas said, gruffly.

"What?" the little girl asked. "Not a hoax."

"Of course it is. We've told you before. Aliens aren't real. It's a trick by Satan himself."

"And that started an argument," the defense mechanism said. "That led to the little girl getting beaten by Mr Thomas for the first time."

"He did _what?_" the Doctor asked.

"You can't be surprised," the Ginger on his left said, flatly.

The defense mechanism pressed on. "The academy was already no place for her. Mr Thomas only allowed the children to have access to certain knowledge and punished them for going outside of it. He experimented on them with different sorts of medications and mechanical techniques, trying to get them to "act more normal". He punished them for stimming and insisted they wear denim even if it felt bad on their skin."

"Stop crying," he'd always say to any child who had a meltdown. "Learn to act normal. You'll never be happy unless you're normal."

"The little girl didn't have many overt meltdowns," said the defense mechanism. "She'd learned to process those feelings of anxiety into anger years before. But that didn't mean she didn't have other ways to release the anxiety."

The little girl sat in her uncomfortable wooden chair, winding a strand of hair around her finger and daydreaming away the monotony. She didn't realize that she was rocking slightly, the motion being comforting to her.

"Pat attention!" Mr Thomas snapped. "And sit _still_." He snatched her fingers out of her hair. "Stop playing with your hair, it's distracting." She looked at him defiantly and brought her fingers back to her hair. He slapped her. She rose from her chair and slapped him. He hit her again, harder, causing her to fall to the floor. "If you don't stop messing with your hair, I'll cut it all off. It'd do wonders for you, probably. Greasy, tangled mess."

"The girl could already feel her eye swelling," said the defense mechanism. "She kept her eyes to the floor and tried to see a route of escape. There wasn't a clear path. He was bigger and stronger. She'd have to wait it out." He heaved her roughly back to her seat by her arms and continued with his Bible lesson. The defense mechanism continued to narrate. "The girl was very anxious. She couldn't concentrate, but she also couldn't slip back into a daydream. She wondered if she'd hit her head on the way down. It had all happened so fast." 

Mr Thomas slammed his Bible on her desk, making her jump. "What did I just say? _Quiet hands."_

She quickly untangled her fingers from her hair and rested them in her lap, hating herself for the involuntary fear reaction. She also hated him for his smug grin.

"Good," he said. "You're learning."

She wanted to fidget so badly, she had so much pent-up energy. But instead she found herself digging her jagged nails into her wrist.

"And so that begins," said the Doctor. He glanced at the Ginger to his right. "I'm sorry, I had no idea that my theory was so close to the mark."

"I hear that all the time," she replied. "Quiet hands. In my head. Over and over. It never stops. Quiet hands, quiet hands..." 

He could see her hands trembling in her lap and took them in his. "It's alright. You don't have to be quiet with me."

She smiled at him.

"From then on," the defense mechanism continued. "Whenever the little girl was feeling particularly bad about herself, she'd dig her nails into her skin. Eventually she'd progress to other tools, but her nails were all she had at age 15."

"This isn't even the worst of it," said the Ginger to his right.

"Mr Thomas also didn't accept picky eaters," said the defense mechanism. "He thought if he just made them eat those things then they'd get used to the texture."

Mr Thomas served sloppy joes one night. "Eat," he said.

"Gross," the girl said, pushing the plate which knocked over the cup of milk that she was also refusing to drink. Mrs Thomas slapped her.

"You'll clean that up, then you'll come back to the table to finish your meal," she spat. "You should be grateful that God gave you food."

"God didn't give me food, you did," the girl said, crossing her arms. "And I won't eat it and I won't clean it up."

"Most children would be crying," the Doctor said. "You're not afraid, you're just angry."

Ginger just shrugged.

"You will do it!" Mr Thomas said. "Right now!"

After the mess was cleaned up, she was forced to come back to the table.

"Now you'll eat," Mr Thomas said. "You'll sit here all night if you have to. But you'll eat."

"But the girl required very little sleep, so she just sat there in silence all night, daring her foster parents to do something about it. The sun was starting to rise when Mr Thomas cracked first."

"Alright, listen here, you little brat," he said. "You're going to eat like a normal kid now. You're going to eat what you're told to eat, do you understand that?"

"Why?" she asked.

"Because we said so," Mr Thomas growled. "We're adults and you'll respect us and do as we say."

"Why?"

This enraged Mr Thomas and he called for his wife. He grabbed hold of the little girl, trying to hold her still as he pried her mouth open. She struggled, but it was no use - he was bigger and stronger.

"You'll eat, whether you want to or not," Mr Thomas said. "No more choices."

Mrs Thomas forced the cold sloppy joe down the child's throat and followed it up with a glass of milk. The girl gagged, not liking the texture of the meat. 

"This became routine," the defense mechanism said. "The Thomases force fed the girl until it made her sick, all while repeating that it was for her benefit. They did this many times with any food that she didn't like - hot dogs, hamburgers, sausages..."

"They did that to you," the Doctor said, voice dripping with uncharacteristic venom. "They actually did that to a child."

Ginger just shrugged. "I've been through worse."

"That doesn't make that okay," the Doctor said. "You were eating just fine. You didn't need...that. You were an autistic child and they...they did _that _to you. No wonder you don't like any of those things today. They properly traumatized you."

Ginger didn't know how to respond to that, so she turned back to the stage.

The defense mechanism carried on. "But after a time, she decided she'd had enough. She ran away again that night. She ran back to Nashville, grabbing her things which she was elated to find were still where she'd stashed them weeks before. She tried to find Mr Loveless, sure that he would believe her, but apparently he no longer worked at the school. She found a new hideout. And so began the cycle of her being found in different abandoned buildings or being picked up for shoplifting, and then being carted back to the academy. She tried to tell police that he was hurting her, that they were doing tests and experiments on the other kids, but not only did nobody believe her they thought she would've deserved it with her record if she had been telling the truth. The girl thought this place was strange enough, because most of the children were very quiet and docile, but soon even Iris became like them. The girl was the only one left who had any fight in her."

"You're not responding to any of our teachings," Mr Thomas said to the little girl one day. "It's been almost a year and you're still harboring...demons, shall we say. You've got certain tendencies that I hoped would be eradicated by now."

"Tendencies?" she scoffed, wondering which he could be talking about.

"It turned out that he, like so many before him, had assumed the little girl was gay," the defense mechanism said. "He started her on intense conversion therapy on top of the other tests."

"What does it matter if I'm gay?" the girl would scream. "You told us autistic people shouldn't have kids anyway!"

The scene changed to show a 15 year old red haired girl breaking the window to shimmy out.

"Mr Thomas had tried everything," the narrator said. "Bolting the doors and windows and everything. But she kept getting out, because she didn't care."

"Can I come with you?" Iris asked, in an uncharacteristically small voice.

The girl turned back to her suspiciously, half-way out the window. "Why?" she asked. "So you can report back when I get caught?"

"No," Iris replied. "I can't be here anymore. But I don't know how to live anywhere else. Please."

"Sorry, but I don't take in probable traitors." She looked at her more closely. "You're serious though? Why do you want to go?"

Iris hesitated. "You know why."

She shook her head. "He doesn't hit you the way he does me. He's always really nice to you."

"Yeah," she said bitterly. "Nice. So nice to his daughter. You think you're the only one that's high-functioning enough to understand what's going on? Being his daughter doesn't protect me from being touched like that."

She felt a chill go down her spine. "Touched like...what? You mean like...hitting?" There was a hopeful edge to her voice that she couldn't explain.

"Oh come on, you know what kind of touching," Iris snapped. "He does it to all of us. That's why he did the thing to us so we can't have babies. The state would think it's fine because we're how we are and we 'shouldn't have kids anyway', but we know why. We know it's so he can't knock us up."

The girl suddenly understood and wished she didn't. "He doesn't do that to me," she said. "No really, he doesn't. I would've said something. He...he sterilized you?" Iris nodded. "He must've not gotten around to that with me yet...Why don't you tell anyone?"

"I can't," Iris cried. "I don't want anyone to know. I just want to get out. One way or another, I'm going to get out or I'm going to die."

There was a short pause. "Sorry," the red haired girl said. "This isn't my problem. You want out, you take matters into your own hands. You'll just slow me down."

"That was November 2007," the defense mechanism said. "That was the last time she ever saw Iris."

The scene changed to her being dragged back in again. Mr Thomas was particularly unhinged in a way she'd never seen before. He smacked her around for a good while, then sent her up to the room where he tied her to her bed. She looked to the side to see Iris' bed empty.

"She killed herself," one of the other girls told her at breakfast the next morning. "Couldn't take it anymore. Left a note about taking matters into her own hands."

"Lucky her," said another girl. "I feel sick every time I think about what he does to me..."

"The little girl felt a chill pass over her," the defense mechanism said. "Starting in the pit of her stomach and spreading throughout. She felt as if she'd been doused in cold water, and for the first time she felt...guilty. Iris had asked her for help, and she'd said no. She hated Iris, sure...but she wouldn't wish what had happened to her on anyone. So she was getting into more fights that ever before. Constant screaming matches and physical altercations. She was tied to the bed every night now. Then Christmas came. Christmas had always been a sore subject for her. She couldn't remember ever really getting presents that weren't socks if she got them at all, and Christmas at the academy was worse. They didn't believe in presents or cheer, it was a gloomy, solemn affair."

"Blue Christmas" by Elvis was playing. The Doctor felt the Ginger on his left physically react to the song and reached out automatically to put his arm around her.

"Don't make me look," she whispered

"It's alright," he whispered to her, softly. "Hush now, it's alright." He squeezed her tightly and wished he could protect her.

"Can't we listen to something else?" the red haired girl on the stage asked, derisively. "What's your deal with Elvis anyway? He's not even that good."

She earned a smack for that one.

"But isn't he like the devil's music?" she insisted, not having learned any sort of lesson. "Weren't Christians super freaked out that he'd lead us all to damnation or something?"

"It was a misunderstanding," Mr Thomas said. "It's today's music that is Satan's work."

"I'm gonna go to my room," the girl said, after a moment. "I can't stand another second of this music."

"You're going to sit here and be a happy family while we read our bibles and praise the lord," Mr Thomas said.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm going to do that."

"You will," he said, trying to sound threatening.

"Sorry, just...not my scene."

She tried to get up and found herself being pulled back down by Mr Thomas. She slapped his face. So he slapped hers back. This led to a particularly nasty screaming match.

"What are you gonna do to me, huh?" the girl screamed. "You gonna rape me too, like you're doing to these other girls? I'm going to call the police, I'm going to tell them-"

"Tell them what?" Mr Thomas screamed back. "First of all, you're crazy. Second of all, if you weren't then nobody would believe you. Nobody will back you up on this, because you're delusional."

"Iris told me everything-"

"Don't you _dare _talk about my daughter-"

"She was your daughter and you did that to her, you sick fuck-"

He hit her again, causing her eye to swell up.

"Don't talk to me like that, ever! I should've never taken you in here! More trouble than you're worth! Cursed, that's what you are! All this is because you're cursed! I've tried to beat it out of you, tried to get the demons to flee you so you can renounce your tendencies and join God! But you refuse!"

"I like my demons," she spat blood. "They're kinder to me than anyone else ever was."

"Then you're a lost cause," Mr Thomas said. "Girls, to your rooms." The other girls were standing around shocked. "NOW!" They scattered. He motioned to Mrs Thomas. "You go make sure they're all strapped down to their beds then give yourself a sleeping pill. This is gonna be a long night."

He beat the little girl to within an inch of her life, all while Elvis Christmas carols played in the background. Then he tossed her out of the house into the snow. She was in the middle of nowhere, nobody was around for miles.

So she looked up to the sky, tears and blood freezing to her face.

"Please...just...please..." she could barely make words work. She was begging the aliens to take her. It was her last chance. Because something had broken in her. She no longer had a will to live if she wasn't good enough to get abducted by aliens - if she wasn't good enough to find a better life.

She closed her eyes and waited...but not for aliens this time.

If Ginger had thought the Doctor had been angry before, that was nothing to this. 

"Stop, just stop!" he shouted, getting to his feet. "Who would do that to a child? Who would just...let that happen?"

"Doctor, please calm down," the Ginger to his left said. She wasn't sure how to process his emotions. She'd felt that way about this many times herself, but something about his reaction felt alien to her.

"I will not calm down! You've really had to suffer and...and...Damn it, Ginger, I'm really angry! I'd be angry if this happened to anyone, but it makes it worse because you did _not _deserve this! Nobody does, but I know you need to hear that! You did _not _deserve this! And I will never stop being angry about this!" He saw her face. "Oh I'm...I'm sorry. I forgot...I bet it's probably upsetting, men shouting, I mean. Probably triggering. I'll try to keep it under control."

"Doctor..." she said. "It's not that. I mean that's true but...for once, it's not that."

The other Ginger got to her feet. "I've seen many people get angry at me," she said. "But nobody has ever been angry on my behalf."

"You deserved better," he said, simply.

"Don't say that until you see what happened next."

"There's _more_?" He paused, seeing the broken and defeated look on her face.

The Ginger to his left referenced that Evanescence song one more time as she took his arm and got him back to his seat.

_"God, please don't hate me._   
_Because I'll die if you do."_

"I'm not going to hate you," he assured her, gently. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gently wiped away some tears. "I promise."

The other Ginger sat as well as the play resumed.

Just as she thought she was going to die, she felt herself being dragged to her feet. She opened her eyes blearily as Mr Thomas propped her against a kitchen counter.

"Why," she said, voice cracking. "Why can't you just...let me die?"

"That's not the deal I made," Mr Thomas said, vaguely. "I'll be punished if I can't save your soul."

She was too out of it to make sense of that statement. "What?" She could barely hear herself think. She wasn't sure if she was concussed or if she was really hearing a pounding in her head that was drowning out all other noise.

"Get up," Mr Thomas said. "Go to bed." He turned his back on her.

But Elvis clashed really horribly with the rhythm in her head. "Can't you...turn off the music? Turn on something soothing, like Evanescence or Green Day or something. Just once."

"Go to bed, don't test me."

She got shakily to her feet and clutched her head. The pounding, it was...driving her mad. She rarely thought about it because she normally had something to soothe her, but this was the worst it had ever been and there was nothing, just...that incessant Elvis.

Mr Thomas was angrily saying something to her, but she couldn't hear. The world seemed to be spinning and she wondered if she wasn't about to pass out. Mr Thomas lost his temper again and slammed her up against a wall, cracking open the back of her head in the process. Her smacked her around again and she fell against a counter, and while she was reaching out to regain her balance she took down the silverware drawer with it. She found herself kneeling on the floor, surrounded by cutlery.

Mr Thomas grabbed her by the arms and lifted her to a halfway standing position as he leered in her face.

"Such an ugly girl," he said, shaking her. "Useless, ugly girl. You ever think about why nobody ever adopted you? It's simple. Who'd want a cursed little demon brat like you?"

The girl hadn't even realized she'd grabbed the knife until she stabbed it into his stomach. It slid into him like butter.

"If you don't want me," she spat. "Then you should've just let me go."

She noticed the look of surprise on his face and realized what she'd done. The pounding in her head got worse, disorienting her further. He tried to reach for her, so she quickly pulled out the knife and plunged it into his chest instead. Then she did it again. Over and over again, so many times she lost count. All while the pounding in her head clashed horribly with Elvis on the radio. She accidentally knocked over a candle, but didn't notice.

The Doctor looked at the Ginger to his right. "What happened then?"

"I accidentally knocked over a candle," she said softly. "The whole place burned down. Mrs Thomas had been heavily medicated upstairs. I started to try to get to the other kids to untie them from their beds...but I chickened out. They all burned to death. So I ran. They eventually found me, put me on trial. He got away with it."

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked, confused.

"His reputation remained sterling," Ginger said. "Mine was ruined forever. I never got to stop running. He never got held accountable. Death, it turns out, is a good way to get out of accepting responsibility. And the worst was Mr Loveless. I was told that he saw the news about me and died of a broken heart. Which sounds like such bullshit, but I actually found a death certificate a few years later and it was dated for the night the news about me broke." She furiously wiped her eyes. "I was committed to a ward for the criminally insane. They said I wasn't autistic, I was actually a psychopath."

"You're not," the Doctor said. "Honestly, the level of misdiagnosis in your life is astounding."

"They had all sorts of diagnoses for me," Ginger said, bitterly. "Schizo, Bipolar, psychotic...they of course blamed it all on being bullied and presumably being raped and drugged by the Michaelsons - even though I was the one child they didn't do that to. So then there I was...15...being put on so many medications that I could hardly move...which was exactly what they wanted."

The film cut to showing her strapped to a bed and occasionally straitjacketed.

"That's inhumane," the Doctor said, scandalized. "Straitjacketing patients causing far more injuries than-"

"Doctor," Ginger said, softly. "I know that."

Some snap shots of the deep gouges in her shoulders from where she struggled against her restraints showed. She was growing feral, attacking anyone who got too close.

"I was in there for only a few months," Ginger said. "It felt like longer."

A title card read July 2008.

There was muffled screaming from outside the room where an orderly as strapping the teenager to the bed. Clearly thinking the girl was too out of it, the orderly went to check out the commotion. But she left one of her hands unbound.

The girl immediately recognized her opportunity, and got to work unstrapping herself. She'd just gotten to her feet when her door was blown inward. The girl immediately assumed a battle stance, but her eyes got wide as she saw what was on the other side of the door.

It had roughly the shape of a metal pepper pot, and had a long eye-stalk that came out of the center of what must've been its head. She'd seen blurry photos of these before - they'd been in London when there was that whole commotion with the ghosts. She stood very still. 

"This room is empty," the Dalek announced, leaving abruptly.

"That doesn't make sense," the Doctor said. "Daleks aren't fooled by standing still."

Cupid was suddenly back behind them. "Doctor, don't think about it. She can't think about that now."

The girl ran into the hallway to a scene of chaos. There were Daleks up and down the hallway. And screaming people. And fire.

So she ran. Ran out onto the street, barely in time for the building to crash down into flame behind her. She'd later find out that everyone who had been in there died in that fire that night. There were Daleks all over the streets, and she just kept running. She saw some people looting a tech store, so she joined long enough to loot a laptop. Then she kept running. She almost passed by a drug store on the way before thinking that now was her chance.

"So many people were lying dead in the street," the defense mechanism said. "So she could just...pretend like she had died. She grabbed some black hair dye and colored her hair herself in a bathroom. Then she kept running. She only stopped long enough to grab her old Discman and her books from the abandoned place she'd last stashed them in, then she stashed herself on the first bus out of town."

"Oh my god," the Ginger on his right shook her head. "I shouldn't be surprised by now, but look...The bus driver. It's Cupid. Sitting in the background like an observer." She sighed and continued on with the story. "I got to New York. It nearly broke my heart. I'd always wanted to go, but I made it there and wasn't able to do anything. I couldn't be on Broadway - couldn't even see a show. I accidentally found a group of street kids who were squatting in an abandoned house. They didn't take kindly to strangers, but they saw me take down a guy twice my size for catcalling me on the street, so...they tolerated me from a distance."

"What's your name?" one of them asked.

"Thorn," the girl answered, instantly adopting a Brooklyn accent.

"Two notes," the Doctor said, finding himself amused despite himself. "First of all, always loved how similar Brooklyn accents are to Cockney ones. It's very you, if any American accent had to be you. Second of all...Thorn? VERY late-stage emo."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a Hex Girl," she shrugged, relieved that he was still joking around with her after all that all.

"It was rough coming off so many antipsychotics," the defense mechanism said. "And she didn't particularly want to start feeling things again. Especially not now that her nightmares were getting worse. So she started self medicating. She spent her time alternating between using her laptops in cafes and libraries, and only using her battery on it at night if she absolutely had to. She felt so...empty now. Nothing could quite soothe her for long. So she started watching as much TV as possible and was absolutely obsessed with finding more and more obscure bands so that she could feel something on her own terms. One day she took a new drug she hadn't tried before, and wound up hallucinating that everyone she'd ever seen was a clone of the laughing man from her dreams. Luckily she was well hidden in her little nook, so these clones never knew she was there. She was 17 at the time."

"See this...I don't understand," the Doctor said. "The drumming, the dreams, the hallucinations...I have way too many questions about how a lot of this is possible."

"Genetic memory," said Cupid, suddenly behind them again. "It's a complicated thing."

"Not long after that, at the age of 18, she watched one of the older girls overdose on cheap alcohol mixed with cough syrup while she herself was too high to help," the defense mechanism said. "She knew that it wouldn't be long til there was an investigation, and she'd heard of a group of alien hunters in Scotland...and she'd just learned how to fake a passport. So she went."

She cut her hair off and got her hands on a purple wig to wear.

"Cinna?" the TSA agent with the New York accent asked, peering at the passport. "Funny sort of name." He let her through. Of course he did. Because it was Cupid again.

"She just hoped she'd be able to pass for Scottish," the defense mechanism explained. "She needn't've worried. She picked up the Edinburgh dialect quite easily. But she couldn't get free so easily. The alien hunters turned out to be, well...alien hunters. She'd hoped they meant that like ghost hunters do - with intellectual curiosity but no harm meant. That was not the case. They wanted to find one, kill it, and sell it off for proof. She couldn't stomach that. She'd been sleeping on a couch for a year in a mobile home park where they were based and paying rent off working in a clothing shop that wouldn't ask questions about her immigration status, when she decided she couldn't take it anymore."

The scene cut to her lying on a bed in a cheap motel, trying to drown out her pounding headache with some Garbage. She put herself in the bathtub and slashed her wrists, hoping this would end all her suffering, all her guilt...but then it didn't. She just...didn't die. She had to have bled enough, surely...but she was still there.

Cupid found her and called an ambulance, and while they were giving her a blood transfusion she found out about the Miracle. Apparently nobody on Earth could die, and nobody was quite sure why. She survived by virtue of what she, at the time, called bad luck, but which was actually Cupid making sure she woke up at just the right time to get out.

She moved to London at last, lived in another motel before eventually camping out in a small theatre in Camden, started calling herself Eleanor Penn after the Dollhouse imprint (she always got chills thinking of "you can't fight a ghost"), decided that she was going to keep being Scottish because her voice was actually starting to sound like what she imagined it was supposed to sound like...and you know the rest.

Suddenly they were all standing on the stage again. The Doctor, the two adult Gingers, the little girl, the defense mechanism, Cupid, and a newcomer - the 15 year old girl in the bloodstained dress.

"Hello," the Doctor said to her softly, so as not to startle you. "Do you also have a necklace?" She nodded and pulled out her fragment. "Are you ready to come home?" She nodded. 

"You're not leaving me?" asked the Ginger from the closest to his time stream.

"It amazes me that you ever think I would. I mean, me of all people. I'm a war criminal."

The Gingers gathered in a circle with their necklaces outstretched. "This will fix it?" asked the little girl.

"I hope so," said the Doctor.

The Ginger from his most recent past took a deep breath. "Fix me now."

"I wish you could," added the 15 year old Ginger.

"Bring me back to life," said the 13 year old Ginger.

"Kiss me blind," said the Ginger from the night they met, looking up at him slowly. "Somebody should."

They spoke together. "From hollow, into..." They put their necklaces together, there was a flash of light, then Ginger and the Doctor sat up on the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so the backstory episodes are always the hardest for me to write because I heavily based on the stuff I went through even if it's dramatized and moved into a new context and has other stuff mixed in with it so if anyone accidentally finds out about this story they can't figure out it's about them...So yeah. Some of this is real stuff that happened to me. Some isn't. No way to know because some of the tame stuff is just the story and some of the stuff that seems unrealistic actually did happen. I didn't have a Cupid in my life, unfortunately, but I did keep with some of the real plays I did when I went to a weird school with an arts grant. I wasn't a foster kid but it felt like I was because my parents were constantly losing custody of me to each other and my grandparents and my stepfather and it was just a whole mess and I'm still not sure about half of the stuff that happened to me as a kid because I've been gaslighted about it and had adults constantly trying to rewrite my narrative so here I am rewriting it again to cope. Got it? Cool.
> 
> Of course there was no murder in my life, it just made for better drama for this particular story. That's the only bit you can be completely sure of, though. Well, that and the fact that I was never in a child brothel and my caregivers were drinkers, not on heroine. And the bit about sterilization isn't as it happened, though my stepfather always said people like me shouldn't have children, but I wanted to do that instead of having Iris be pregnant and forced to get an abortion which is what happened to my sister. But everything else could be entirely accurate, accurate but dramatized, or just fiction. Who knows?


	48. Don't Speak

"It worked," Cupid said, eyes filled with relief. "You two need a moment. I'll just be outside." He left.

Ginger heaved a dry sob and couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"I wish I had words to say," she said. "Normal, real words to say. Not just references. But I don't know what to say otherwise."

"Ginger, I don't mind. This is actually one of the things that I...like so much about you. You have autism, so you have trouble communicating with people. So you created a short hand of pop culture references to make it clearer. If you need it, go on ahead."

_"You and me...I can see us dying...Are we?"_

"No. We're not."

"I don't understand. I'm a bad person."

"Which part of that made you a bad person?"

That's when she looked at him. "What do you mean? I killed them. People always die around me, it's always my fault."

"I don't blame you for decisions you made almost a decade ago when you didn't know better."

"I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to pay him back for what he'd done."

"You were horrified when you realized what you'd done. You felt remorse."

"I did, but I didn't. I still struggle with that. I don't want to be the one capable of that. It wasn't me, I didn't...but then I think of what he deserved...And you would've found a way to save the others, you wouldn't've ignored Iris..."

"You were 15 years old, and you'd known nothing in your life but cruelty. You're not responsible for her death. The man who violated her is."

"But I keep letting people die!" she insisted. "You understand, right? When we got kidnapped by those wolf people and they all ended up dead like that, I thought there might be a chance I was being blamed for it like I was always blamed for everything, but it was a message. She won't admit to it, but it _had _to be Doppelginger letting me know that she knew what I did."

"That doesn't make them your fault."

"How can you even stand to look at me, knowing what I've done?"

"I killed my entire species," the Doctor said gravely. "_Our_ entire species. Even the children. To think I, of all people, wouldn't understand an impossible situation..."

"The worst thing is that when those Dalek things invaded...so many people died. The whole hospital burned down. I saved my Walkman and my books and...myself. Abandoning people again. And I just feel so...conflicted. Those things...they're horrible. They _killed _the first people who ever adopted Alex - she told me that. But I always felt...grateful to them. The Daleks. In a way, they saved me. If they hadn't come, I would've rotted in that place forever. But then I remember I deserved to die there too..."

"You were being manipulated," the Doctor said. "I could see signs of it in your memories, even though I can't see how all the pieces fit together, not yet. I have a feeling there is much more that we aren't being told. Cora said this was the Trickster. I can't help but feel somewhat responsible."

"You?" she looked at him again. "You're not responsible for this."

"The only reason you've been tortured and manipulated like this your whole life is to get to me. Any pain that you've experienced...it was a strategy to mold you into someone who could be dangerous to me. Which makes me responsible for that pain."

"That's ridiculous," Ginger said. "You're not responsible for some mystery psycho dedicating their time to making me crazy."

"But it feels that way, and maybe indirectly it's true. Just like I know you have some responsibility for what you did, but you were also a scared kid being manipulated by forces out of your control. And you've done so much good since. You learned from your mistakes. You've tried to atone. I've seen the fierce way you defend Alex. I saw the way you responded to the situation at that Catholic school. And I understand now."

"That doesn't cancel it out-"

"No it doesn't, but believe it or not, that counts for something."

"I just..." she said, voice breaking. "I want it to be better. I never felt...I dunno...connected to myself, if that makes sense? Even when I was small. The names people called me didn't feel like me, and I never felt comfortable being me."

"It's not like anyone ever let you be yourself without punishment," he reminded her. "Listen, Ginger-"

She laughed, a broken sound. "Am I Ginger?"

"Of course you are, if you want to be."

"I've been so many people, Doctor. So many people, but none of them were ever...me. But then I met you and...I wanted to be Ginger, I'd never been Ginger before...No matter what I did you never gave up on me. I never knew the sort of person I was, until I wanted to be the person you thought I was. You fixed me..."

He hugged her close to him then. "I didn't fix you. I was a plaster over an infected wound."

"Just as I was for you," she observed. "But you make me feel better..."

"People can't make you feel better," he said, pulling away to hold her at arm's length. "They can help, but you have to find healing inside yourself. I haven't done anything. I've just been a distraction keeping your mind off your pain, just as you've done for me."

"A symbiotic relationship-"

"More like we're two parasites feeding on each other until we both die of starvation. Being numb to the pain is not the same thing as being happy."

"Right," she said, remembering the events of the day. "Numb. I made a promise to you that I would keep you alive. But I saw today what that could look like...Doppeldoc was totally destroyed by her. Completely wacked out on drugs. That's not living. If I really want to protect you, I have to protect you from myself. We have to let each other go, even if that means I lose you forever. Because I can't watch that become our life." She drew back and took off her necklace. "Here. You should have Candy. I don't...deserve her."

The Doctor looked at the necklace and tried to give it back. "Ginger, this is yours."

She laughed bitterly. "Nothing is mine, Doctor. Not even you. Not really."

"Candy is yours," he said, firmly. He took the necklace and put it back around her neck. "You see, I understand this now. This is your heart. I know you'd like to give it to me to hold onto, but I think it's safer with you. It's very brave of you, cutting me loose like this. But I haven't forgotten. Cora said that there were others that killed themselves when I left-"

"But I'm the one leaving you," she reminded him. "Much as I don't want to."

"Regardless, I want you to promise me that when I go...no matter what happens, you'll be alright. You have to be the strong one. What was it Buffy said? Be brave. Live. For me."

"I promise," she said, oddly touched by his choice of phrasing. "It's just so sad. I still can't say it, you know. It's difficult for me."

"Then say it a different way. You have the vocabulary."

"I don't belong to you. Just like you don't belong to me. But we belong with each other. That's why...that's why this is so hard." She moved out of instinct to kiss him but stopped just short. "Sorry. I forgot. It's still weird."

He hugged her instead. "You can get through this, Rabbit."

"Why do you call me that?" Ginger asked. "It's a strange nickname for a grown woman that you're sleeping with."

"I don't know," he admitted. "It just fit. I always picked up on how afraid you were, deep down."

She nodded. "I'm a coward."

"No," he said. "You survived. You're older and smarter now, so you can do better. I thought I was a coward for the longest time because I just ran away and let other people deal with the mess I made, but it takes real bravery to own up to it and decide to do better." He pulled away again and smoothed her hair away from her face. "You know, that nickname doesn't feel right for you anymore. You're stronger and braver than that now. You're not a rabbit, you're a Shalia."

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's a Gallifreyan word. It means 'butterfly'. Except it doesn't."

She tilted her head quizzically. "What do you mean? How can a word mean butterfly but also not mean butterfly?"

"It's an old Gallifreyan folktale. Back in the beginning, there were glowing butterflies that flew around Gallifrey. But they saw the mess that Gallifreyans made of their planet and flew to the sky, becoming the stars. So Shalia means butterfly, but it also means star. You might say that the Shalia were cowards for running away, but according to legend, the Shalia traveled forever, shining their light upon the injustice of the world and lighting the way for the future revolutionaries."

"I like that," she admitted.

He hugged her again. "That's how I see you, you know. A quiet revolutionary. I understand if you're afraid to fight because it went so badly for you, but you understand now. You can do better."

"I don't deserve you," she said, burying her face in his shoulder.

"You don't deserve what you went through," the Doctor said. "But I regret to inform you that it's made us the only people who truly deserve each other." He could feel her smile and took that as a good sign. "Now, what do you say we have hot chocolate and a Ben & Jerry's buffet before bed? It's been a long day."

He led her past the others who were still gathered outside in the hallway, but who hadn't been able to hear their conversation due to the TARDISes confidentiality field.

"Ginger?" asked Jack. "You alright?"

She avoided his gaze and clung to the Doctor's arm. "Please," she tried to joke. "Please no questions."

The Doctor got her settled on a chair in the kitchen.

"I'll be right outside, it'll only take a moment. Are you going to be alright in here by yourself? I won't be gone long, but I don't...Please don't hurt yourself when I'm gone. Can you promise me you'll try? And you'll wait right here?"

"I can try," she agreed.

He didn't like this, so he decided he'd hurry back.

"Where's Ginger?" Cupid asked, as soon as the Doctor came into the hallway. "She shouldn't be left alone-"

"We'll have to have a chat about this sometime, but for now...Thank you. For looking out for her. I'd hug you if I could." He turned to the others, who were all stunned. "I don't have time to answer questions, I need you to trust me. I don't like...leaving her alone this long. Not right now. Alex, I need you to take the TARDIS back to Sarah Jane's garden. Then I need you both to leave."

"What?" Alex asked. "No, we're not leaving her."

"I've got this under control for now," the Doctor said, firmly. "I need you to trust me."

She didn't like it, but eventually she nodded. "Alright. No use wasting any time."

The Doctor turned to Cupid. "I know you want to be there for her right now, but you've got to trust me. She needs it to just be the two of us or she'll be overwhelmed. She's decided she's leaving. As soon as she's better, she's going to go."

"She is?" Cupid was surprised. "She's never done that before." A curious look crept over his face. "She...she changed the ending? Can I just...can I see her? I just need to tell her one thing."

The Doctor could see the sincerity in his eyes and after a moment's thought, nodded.

...

"Ginger, my sweet," Cupid said, approaching slowly. She looked up at him and he could see she'd very recently been crying. "Is it alright if I..." He gestured vaguely to indicate coming closer. This was odd, since in her memory he'd never so much as gotten within range of her personal space bubble. She nodded, giving him permission. So he came closer and crouched in front of her chair. "My dear, you look so very tired. Can I help you in any way?"

"I am...so tired," she admitted, nodding. "I just don't...understand."

"You're in shock, petal," he said. "Perfectly understandable. The past 24 years have been an unconscionable ordeal for you. I'm very sorry you had to endure all this."

"It's not even about that anymore," she said. "Like that I can...almost understand but..."

He softened. "What is it, my darling? Talk to me."

"Am I...real?" she asked, tears springing to her eyes.

"What?" he asked, confused. "Of course you are, more real than anything."

"No am I _real,_" she insisted. "Not do I physically exist but am I...me? Am I anything more than just what the Trickster shaped me to be? He placed me in time and manipulated events to make me the perfect weapon. So tell me honestly if anything I am comes from me or if I'm just a very clever weapon."

Cupid swallowed, realizing he'd heard some version of this question before. His hands twitched. "May I?" he asked. She nodded, so he took her hands in both of his gloved hands. "You are real. You are you. A whole person."

"But my feelings," she sobbed. "Are they real?" She looked up and saw the Doctor. "He manipulated us to be this to each other, so I really had no control over it. Does that mean this - what we feel - isn't real?"

"It's real, pumpkin," said Cupid, gently. "Manipulated, yes, but so much more real than I think anyone anticipated. I don't know that any Ginger before you has ever progressed past a sort of manic Eros. But look at you. Philia, pure and simple. Developed over time. Real trust and real friendship. Between equals. I heard you've decided on leaving?"

"I have, yeah."

He smiled sadly at her. "He never planned for that. You're not supposed to leave him. But you made that choice, proving that there is something in you that is stronger than any programming. Do you remember what I always used to say to you?"

"You always said...I control my own narrative. Nobody can write it for me."

He nodded. "I did say that. Do you remember what I said when I cast you to do narration on Romeo and Juliet?"

She smiled a bit. "I'd wanted to play Lady Montague. And not even because I particularly fancied the part, I just wanted a speaking role that didn't have to do kissing."

"But you remember what I said?" She thought about it, then shook her head. "That's alright. It was a long time ago. I wanted you to get perspective. The chorus had perspective none of the other characters had. I wanted you to see it from the outside, as someone who should have no reason to root for anyone in particular. Because you would get that star-crossed love. It had always been doomed before. I wanted you to make a different decision, even if it was painful. Didn't say all that at the time, but I'd hoped you would change the ending. And...you have. It's very brave, darling, so very brave. And I know it hurts. But I'm so..._so _proud of you."

Ginger reached out as if to hug him before remembering his condition. She began to cry instead. Cupid patted her on the shoulder with one gloved hand, wishing he could do more. The Doctor thought it was best to give them a minute and stepped out into the hallway.

"I know you told me to leave," said a voice. "But...I couldn't. I can't. And not just because I forgot my scalpel."

"You should've," he said softly, without turning around. His rage was just barely simmering under the surface. "I'm not sure I can forgive you for this. You and I have survived a lot of things but...I don't know if we can survive this."

"You don't mean that," the Corsair tried to rationalize with him. "You're my best friend-"

He laughed bitterly. "Your best friend? Since when? We don't know each other _that well_, Corsair, never have! We hung out a few times over the centuries, got into a few scrapes, had a few drunken flings, but it was never enough for us to be best friends!" He turned back to her, and she was startled to see the anger in his eyes. "Of course this is you that we're talking about - you don't have friends, do you, Corsair? So maybe you wouldn't know what that's like."

"That's cruel, Doctor."

"Yeah, well, what you allowed to happen to Ginger was cruel."

"She...told you?" The Corsair couldn't hide her surprise.

"She showed me."

"You were in her head. That's..." She leaned against the wall as she pondered this. "I didn't know she was capable of letting someone in."

Something about this angered him. "The only reason she's so closed off is because you decided to allow her to become that way. You _knew _everything - what they were doing to her - and you didn't stop them. You did _nothing_. You said that you wished things could've been different. Well...they could've been. You could've stopped it. You could've saved her. Maybe it was the Trickster and you were only doing what you thought was right, but that doesn't _make it right_! She was a child, Corsair. "

"Doctor, please. Let me try to fix this."

"There's no fixing it, the damage was done."

Her eyes grew wide. "She didn't-"

He shook his head. "No, she's alive. No thanks to you. But she's leaving. She told me so. She wants to protect me from what she calls 'the monster' inside her. The one you had a hand in creating, even if it was by stepping back and allowing it. At least Cupid did _some _things to try to help her."

"She's actually...She's leaving?" This stumped her. "That's never happened before. She's always been different and I can't...figure out why. That's what I'll do. I'll go find out why she's different. I'll make this up to you."

"I'm not the one you have to make it up to," he reminded her. "You're just lucky she survived this time line. If anything had happened to her at all...That would've been us, done. She's hurting because of something you could easily have prevented. There's no greater good about that. You know that when all this started I was terrified that everyone around me gets corrupted and turned into a weapon. I looked at my friends and...all I saw were my consequences. So I tried to stay away. And now I know...that I may not have corrupted her or weaponized her personally, but when I look at Ginger now...all I can see is my greatest consequence. People were so desperate to destroy me that they tried to destroy her first to get to me. What kind of monster does that make me?"

"Doctor-"

"So I want you to go," he said, steeling himself. "I want you off my ship. Because you stood by and watched this happen to her. I want you out of my sight."

"I'm sorry-"

"I said get OUT-"

Then a voice spoke from behind him. "What's all this shouting about? You alright?"

The Doctor felt as if all the air went out of the room. "Ginger." He turned towards her, gently taking her by the arms. "You shouldn't be up."

"I told her that," Cupid said, hovering anxiously behind her. "But she's never once listened to me. She was giving _me _notes and suggestions as a director when she was 10 years old."

But Ginger saw the Corsair. "You were yelling about me. Weren't you." It was a statement.

"We were," the Corsair said. "Sorta."

"Everyone's always yelling at or about me," she said, shaking her head as if clearing cobwebs. She gently pulled away from the Doctor and moved towards the Corsair.

"Ginger-" the Doctor began, concerned.

She held up a hand to placate him. "It's alright," she assured him. But the Corsair didn't look so sure about that. With every step that Ginger took closer to her, the Corsair huddled closer to the wall and shook a bit. "No really, it is. I just want to ask you something."

"Go on then," she said, defiantly. "Torture it out of me."

"You're confusing me for Doppelginger again," Ginger said. "Which, to be honest, is a bit unfair to me. I just want you to tell me something and tell me honestly. If I go, will it save him?"

This confused Cora. "What?"

"If I go," Ginger said. "Because I...don't want to leave him. I..." She swallowed hard. "I need to protect him. That's what it feels like. He's reckless and moronic and he needs me. But that's...not right. That's...the way Doppelginger talks. I don't want to be Doppelginger. I saw her Doctor. He was...hollow. Might as well have been dead. If I leave, that doesn't happen to him. If I make him safe from me, then he's safe?"

The Corsair looked at her. "There are no guarantees. And no answers that you will like. But essentially if you leave then...there is a fighting chance."

She nodded. "I've already decided I'm going. Because I can't...be responsible for more pain. Especially his." She sounded so tired. "So I'll go."

"You mean that?" the Corsair was skeptical, but something in her gut told her that she was telling the truth.

She nodded. "Yeah. I mean...I have to, don't I? This has to end. One of us has to go. I saw what happens if I stay and..." She glanced at the Doctor and swallowed back more tears. "I've seen how far I'd go for fear of losing you. Now I'm going to see if I can go farther out of fear of destroying you. Because I can't bear to lose you, but what I saw tonight was worse...So much worse. It'll be the hardest thing I've ever done, but I know I could do anything to save you. And now that means saving you from me. From us. From what we become when we're together."

All those converging timelines in the Corsair's head came together at last into one clear path forward. She could see Ginger's sincerity and felt a relief that she'd never imagined possible. She was stunned. "I'm...sorry," she said. "I've been unfair to you. I...well, it doesn't matter, because you know what I thought. I gave up on you. Maybe I shouldn't've. The Gingers are a strong bunch, but if you can do this...you're stronger than all of them. None of them have ever had the strength to walk away, which is why I focused so much attention on getting the Doctor to leave you. I don't...understand what is happening here, why you're different. Why you've _always _been different. But I intend to find out. I can't change what I've done, but maybe I can make it up to you. Give you some real answers."

"But not now," Cupid insisted, sensing that Ginger was fading. "My dear, why don't you rest and I'll make you a nice cuppa?"


	49. Boats & Birds

Ginger had slept in her own room that night since it might be the last time. She was absolutely famished when she awoke the next morning, but a comforting smell drew her to the kitchen.

"I should've known," the Doctor said, seeing her entering out of the corner of his eye. "You're a light sleeper and you've got a sixth sense for breakfast food. I'm convinced people could put a pancake in a pentagram and you'd be summoned in a puff of smoke."

"You're not wrong about that," she smiled, leaning against the doorway.

"Sit down, they're almost ready."

"You making waffles?" She moved to the small kitchen table and sat.

He scooped the last one onto the plate and put it before her. "I just thought after all you've been through, they're what you deserve."

Ginger looked down at the plate and felt her eyes fill with tears. She looked up at him.

"Too much?" he asked, nervously. "I just thought-"

"Scooby Doo waffles?" she smiled, crying in spite of herself.

"You've earned them."

She got up and hugged him. "Thank you."

"Not to cut this short," he said. "But I just felt your stomach growl, so I think you need to eat. Then I've got something to show you."

...

Breakfast was lovely, if a bit bittersweet. It felt in a way like the first time they'd really let themselves see each other as proper friends. Every bit of the tension between them was gone and they were finally just...there for each other.

"What's this big surprise?" Ginger asked as he hurried her along the long corridor.

"I stayed up late last night making this for you," he said as he opened a door.

Ginger blinked, looking with surprise upon what appeared to be a lifeless human form in a blue sweater dress. "What, uh...is it?"

"Oh, sorry," he replied, hurrying inside and flipping a switch on her back. Suddenly the pretty blonde form lifted her head and came to life.

"An android?" Ginger asked, skeptically. "Is this some sort of weird sex toy, because I'm not comfortable-"

"You've been spending too much time with Captain Jack," he smiled. "No, that's not what this is."

The robot finished booting up and smiled. "Doctor!" she said, smiling up at him. "Did you bring me my patient?"

"Yes, Thea," he replied, gesturing at Ginger. "Meet Ginger."

Thea was as excitable as a puppy as she got up to shake her hand. "I am so honored to get to work with you!" she exclaimed. "I'm really looking forward to it!"

"Uh..." Ginger said, eyes wide. "Doc...What is this?"

"This, Ginger, is Thea," he explained. "Your therapist."

She dropped Thea's hand and laughed. "Oh no way," she said, taking a few steps back with her hands in the air. "No _way _I'm doing therapy. I've been down that path before, you know I have problems with doctors-"

"Still? After everything?" he teased.

"You know what I mean."

"I do. But you have to trust me. You had bad human doctors who weren't working with the full picture and kept mistreating you. But you _have _to have someone to talk to, someone who can help you. Unfortunately your trauma isn't something a layperson would understand without labeling you as delusional, so you need someone specifically programmed to know you're telling the truth. Also she has access to all of the finest treatment methods. I programmed her specifically to be the best."

"I'm sorry if I came on too strong," Thea smiled. "I've just never had a patient before and I got excited."

Ginger sighed, looking at the Doctor with exasperation. "She is cute, though. I have to admit that."

"Yeah, I also programmed her in a way that wouldn't be threatening to you."

"I still don't know..."

"Please, will you do this for me? Because I know how unstable you can be. After what I saw on Christmas...I don't want to leave you until I know you're safe from yourself."

She laughed, darkly. "With Doppelginger still out there somewhere? Doubtful that I'll ever really be safe from myself."

"Just give it time," the Doctor said. "You'll stay here for a while until I know you'll be alright. Then...Well..."

She nodded, feeling that same pang of sadness. "Alright. I'll do this if it'll make you feel better." Then she had an idea.

...

"How is she?" Jack asked anxiously as he and Alex stepped into the TARDIS. They'd both been unable to sleep, they'd been so worried about Ginger. But Alex said that they had to trust that the Doctor would tell them when they could come back. And he had. He'd given Alex a phone call asking them both to come.

Ginger and the Doctor were both standing in the control room waiting for them. Ginger looked away as soon as she saw Jack, evidently trying to hide her guilt behind her hair now that it was long enough to do so.

"She'll be fine," the Doctor said, picking up on this and lightly touching her arm.

"How are you, Jack?" Ginger asked.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "Honestly. Doesn't even hurt today."

"I still shot you."

"You weren't in control. There's nothing to forgive. I didn't realize you didn't know I can't die. I'm sorry about that."

"Something's different," Alex said. "Something's changed."

"You're right, it has," Ginger said, turning to her now. "There's...clarity, I guess. I'm...I'm very sick. Mentally. And that makes me a danger to everyone around me."

"That's ridiculous," Alex said. "You're not dangerous to anyone."

She smiled sadly. "I have been. You don't know what I've done. Jack got off easy. You saw my doppelganger yesterday, so you know what I'm capable of."

"You're different from Doppelginger," Alex insisted. "I knew she wasn't you by the way she felt. She was sad and desperate. She scared me. I'm not scared of you."

"Please, don't make this harder," Ginger said, voice trembling. "Some bad things have happened to me..."

"You don't have to go into this right now," the Doctor said, reaching out to steady her again.

"I won't go into detail," she said, smiling at him appreciatively. "Maybe some time else when I'm feeling...But I'm getting help. And while I do that, I don't think I should see either of you. I shouldn't even be seeing the Doctor but...I need a stable environment while I do this. This is the only familiar place I have. And I can't do it alone anyway."

"Ginger, you don't have to try to protect us-" Alex insisted.

"I do while I try to find out what's wrong with me," she insisted. "Sometimes I feel so...out of control of my own life. Like I can't help myself. And I need to figure out why before I can be any use to anyone."

"Are you done yet?" a voice asked. "Can I come out now?"

The Doctor and Ginger exchanged knowing smiles.

"Yeah," Ginger said. "As I was literally just about to say, this involved the Doctor making a therapist for me. Guys, meet Thea."

Thea bounced into the room. "Sorry, I was just too excited! More people! And you said these are _humans_? Fascinating!"

Jack was the first to speak. "Captain Jack Harkness," he said, taking her hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Thea looked excitedly at the Doctor. "This is him, isn't it? The one who calls himself a Captain even though the only thing he's ever been captain of is a banana boat?"

"Is that what he says about me?" Jack asked.

"What's a banana boat?" asked Thea.

"I did sort of mean it as a compliment," the Doctor said. "I mean, bananas are good."

"I'm so excited to get started," Thea said.

"Thea's also going to be Alex's therapist," said the Doctor.

Alex looked up sharply. "What? No, I don't need therapy."

"It's mostly just so you can get meds, don't worry," Ginger said. "You said you were having problems getting NHS to give you an appointment."

"And besides," the Doctor cut in. "I realized last night that the life we live is full of very traumatic things. I think it would help to have someone impartial that you can talk to even if she's an android."

Alex was suddenly more interested. "She's an _android_? Cool!"

"Is this Alex?" Thea asked, completely abandoning Jack to focus on her instead.

"She's so life-like," Alex said, marveling at the craftsmanship. "I never would've guessed she wasn't human. Impressive work and attention to detail. I like the glasses."

"That part was Ginger's idea," Thea said, brightly. "She said it makes me more relatable. I have no need for them - I have perfect 20/20 vision even when you don't count my night vision, heat vision, x-ray, magnification, and telescopic modes."

"You've got all that?" Alex asked, absolutely in awe.

"All that and more," Thea promised her. "The Doctor programmed me with many exciting features."

"I just bet he did," Jack flirted.

"Is that flirtation?" she asked, turning back to him. "I'm unaccustomed to it since I was just programmed last night. Ginger told me if you do that to just tell you to 'cool it, wannabe Casanova'."

"Ouch," Jack said, pretending to be wounded. "Wannabe?"

"Yeah, well, you try too hard," Ginger teased. "When you've had the real deal, you'll know."

...

"I'm glad Ginger's doing better," Alex said, taking a walk with the Doctor after all was said and done.

"So you think she's doing better?" he asked, anxious for her input.

"I don't think she's where she needs to be, but I don't think she's ever felt better. Just in my experience with her, she's still carrying that pain and it's very real and raw but it feels like she's breathing for the first time. It actually feels like both of you are. You're sad - something's ended...but it feels right."

"Does it?"

"Yeah. I think you two...Were too similar. You met at just the right time to be absolutely perfect for each other. Both in so much unexpressed pain...but you needed each other too much. You collided and were just...stuck. Neither of you moving forward. And now you are moving forward, even if it's hard. And that's good. That's progress."

"Progress means we have to leave each other behind."

She smiled, sadly. "Yeah, I think it probably does. I've been thinking a lot about this since I figured out about being an empath. And I remember being a kid and...Well, I didn't understand the things I felt then. But I remember feeling what real, pure love felt like. And comparing that to me and Kira...Well, we couldn't measure up. We loved each other, but we weren't in love. But you and Ginger...on some level, you love each other - don't try to deny that. But it felt sick...not like what I remember pure love felt like. Maybe one day you and Ginger will be in the same place again and you'll be able to love each other the way you both deserve. But what you had here was bad for you both."

"Very wise words, Miss Alex," came a voice from behind them.

"Cupid?" Alex said, turning around. "What are you doing here?"

"I was thinking," he said. "You're an empath among regular humans who can't possibly understand you. What if I helped you learn how to control your abilities? Or, at least, how to live with them?"

...

For Ginger's first few sessions with Thea, she insisted on having the Doctor there next to her. He'd sit on the sofa next to her and hold her hands, rarely speaking but always trying to support her. The first time Ginger tried to insist on him being there, Thea had expressed concern about it. But Ginger said she couldn't be alone in this, not yet. So Thea agreed he could stay.

"I can see you two care deeply for each other," Thea said at the time. "We'll have to wean you off that dependency, of course, but for now I think we can use it to establish some stability in your relationship."

"This isn't a relationship," Ginger insisted, still holding his hands with both of hers.

"Of course not, but you love him."

She tried to pretend not to be embarrassed. "Love is such a _strong _word-"

"I understand why you might be averse to labeling things or admitting vulnerability. It makes sense, given what little you've said about your history. But it's alright to be vulnerable, especially with someone who loves you the same way."

Now it was the Doctor's turn to be embarrassed. "Now, I wouldn't say _that_-"

"You did say that," Thea plowed on, obliviously. "While you were programming me and we were talking, you said-"

"Hey hey hey!" he cut her off, anxious to not be exposed like this. "What happened to patient confidentiality?"

"You're not my patient," she said, regarding him innocently. Then her eyes got wide as a grin split over her face. "Wait, do you _want _to be my patient? You also said you didn't need therapy, but I'd definitely like to help you too-"

"No no no, no therapy needed, I'm absolutely fine."

"Are you?" Ginger asked.

...

The Doctor and Ginger carried on their lives trying to be as normal as possible. Ginger was sleeping in her own room at night, and her nightmares were getting less frequent with time. They hung out a lot watching cheesy movies and generally being their old nerd selves, even if sometimes that manifested as the Doctor turning on "Satellite Skin" and dancing with Ginger in the control room while they sang along until their throats were raw. Something really had changed between them. There was still gravity, something drawing them together...but they both felt that their sexual relationship was over. They never had to say it, but they both knew it.

A few weeks passed and Ginger continued getting her therapy. In order to maintain healthy boundaries, the Doctor had programmed Thea to only turn on 3 times a week. Thea would be able to gauge how well Ginger was doing with her recovery and cut down her therapy as needed, maybe to two days a week or even one...but for now it was 3.

One day Thea announced that she was ready to present a diagnosis, if Ginger was ready to hear it. Ginger insisted the Doctor be there for it, because she felt like she needed the support.

"I have made a comprehensive profile of your personality and neurochemical makeup, and I've come to a conclusion regarding your mental state."

"And?" Ginger asked, reaching out to take the Doctor's hands in both of hers at the same time that he reached out for hers.

"I've determined that you have symptoms of what in this time period was called Borderline Personality Disorder."

"The..." Ginger blinked. "The same diagnosis Winona Ryder had in Girl, Interrupted? I mean, I like Winona Ryder, but..."

"That can't be right," the Doctor said, getting defensive. "I mean, that's such a sexist diagnosis. I've done some reading of my own, and it turns out women are more likely to be diagnosed with BPD instead of getting treatment for what's really wrong. Men are more likely to simply be diagnosed with PTSD-"

"I assure you, I've done the proper analysis, Doctor. Or do you doubt your own programming skills?"

"I think we should hear her out, Doc," Ginger said, squeezing his hands. "Alright, Thea. Present your evidence."

"There is some overlap between symptoms of BPD and autism-" Thea began.

"So now you're trying to say Ginger isn't autistic?" the Doctor asked.

"Doc, I appreciate you being so protective, but please be quiet," Ginger said.

"On the contrary, Doctor," Thea said. "I believe Ginger has both Autism Spectrum Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder. She was born with ASD and then was so severely traumatized that it triggered BPD in her."

"How?" Ginger asked.

"There are many factors at play, but there is a general belief that BPD has a genetic predisposition factor. If you have a Borderline parent, you're more likely to develop yourself. But there's no general consensus on whether that's nature - an actual genetic marker - or nurture - mimicry of poor coping skills modeled by a parent."

"I was a foster kid, though," Ginger said.

"Which could also play a factor," Thea said. "Part of BPD is experiencing severe attachment issues. It doesn't have to be caused by big overt traumas like yours, but something as simple as a neglectful, distant parent or an unstable home life can cause it. You've had all of that. You naturally developed coping mechanisms to deal that were detrimental."

"Like what?"

"The self-harm is a major red flag. Suicidality is also common. You show impulsivity, recklessness, and a general disregard for your own safety. You are suspicious and hostile to new people."

"All that, huh?" Ginger asked, slightly uncomfortable hearing it all out like that.

"And more," Thea said. "Do you recognize any of the following symptoms? Unstable sense of self, the need to completely change your name or appearance or personality. How about thinking something is great one minute and then lashing out to destroy them the next? Picking arguments to have an excuse to leave a situation? Feeling repulsed and indifferent to sex one minute then suddenly becoming extremely sexual the next?"

"Is this a callout post?" Ginger joked.

"To be quite honest with you, Ginger, and I know you're not going to want to hear this..."

"What?" she asked.

"Your relationship with the Doctor is a major red flag."

"How so?" he asked.

"Not just the tumultuous nature of it," Thea said. "You went from being suspicious and cold to begrudging friend to cutting him out of your life entirely to friends to lovers..."

"Ew, do we have to call it lovers?" Ginger asked, making a face.

"But the way you feel for him is so evident in how you talk," Thea said. "He's what BPD circles call your Favorite Person, or FP. This person is someone you base your entire life around, thinking they will fix you or complete you or make you whole. But it's an unhealthy, unstable relationship. You split sometimes then come back completely obsessed. It can turn emotionally abusive really quickly if you let it."

"And what would you advise?" Ginger asked, keenly aware of how bad they could get.

"I think you're going to have to leave," Thea said. "I think it's time, and you're ready. You both need space from each other. To be healthy, you have to let yourselves grow apart and be who you're going to be. You need to continue to be part of each others lives, but you need boundaries. And, of course, Ginger...you need to continue your treatment. It's not going to be easy. We've been working on a model of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy that you've done very well with...but we need to start you on Dialectical Behavior Therapy and eventually on Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing."

"Will I need medication for that?" Ginger asked, anxiously.

"It's possible," Thea said. "We'll evaluate as time goes on. But this is a personality disorder, not a mood disorder. We need you in therapy to confront your thought and behavior patterns. This isn't about neurochemicals. That's the major misstep that's been made by mental health professionals in your life thus far - they've medicated excessively instead of trying to correct your thoughts. I suspect that's why medication never helped you and only made you worse - borderlines aren't fixed by medication. It can be a supplement to treatment, but the treatment is the key."

"I really have to leave?" Ginger asked, not happy about this.

"Weren't you planning on it anyway?" Thea asked. "You were talking about letting go and moving on, which is impressive progress. Now it's time to do that. We'll do it slowly, though. Acclimate you to the idea of leaving. We won't do it today."

"How do I live?" Ginger asked. "With a personality disorder, I mean? If it was just some chemicals that would be one thing but...that means this is just me. It's who I am. I don't want to keep infecting the people around me with my darkness."

"Interesting choice of words," Thea said. "Darkness." She got to her feet. "Do you know how a battery works, Ginger?"

"No, never really thought about it, to be honest."

Thea walked over to her desk. "My fuel cell is a bit more complicated since it works a bit more like the TARDIS's so for this example we'll use typical 21st century Earth batteries. They work by turning a negative charge into a positive." She took a flashlight out of the drawer and held it up so Ginger could see it. "It's like the battery in this torch. It takes the negative charge it starts out with and turns it into light. That's what you can do. You don't have to be defined by all the negativity you started out with. You can take that pain and make light, so that other people can see a way through the darkness."

...

The Doctor had been attempting to teach Ginger piano and guitar for some time now. He felt it was a useful way to occupy her mind and attention while she was dredging up whatever pain she had in therapy. Ginger had some really rudimentary basic piano skills from taking lessons in church as a child, but had no concept of how the guitar worked. She was better on piano, but her progress on both instruments was slow.

"Ugh I'm never going to get this!" she groaned, tossing away the guitar one day in frustration. She was on edge, and the Doctor could see tears sparkling in her eyes. She'd started EMDR recently and was going through a rough patch because the treatment dredged up a lot of painful memories for her to relive. "I keep doing this over and over and I never get any better!"

The Doctor was always very patient with her, but today it was understanding that helped him keep his cool. "Nobody's expecting you to have it down overnight. And I'm not going to lie to you and say that you'll wake up one day being perfect. But you are getting better, I promise. Progress can be slow and difficult, but it's always worth it. I know it can be hard to see your own progress, but you're really doing very well. Don't give up on it just yet. You can take a break now if it's too much, but just know that I know you can do this. I'll never give up on you."

Ginger was very moved, but trying not to show it. "Alright, don't go all metaphorical on me, dummy. Save the poetry for the poets."

But she did pick the guitar back up. That simple willingness to try again was all the confirmation the Doctor needed that she had it in her to keep going.

"Let's teach you a simpler one," he said gently. "How about Boats & Birds?"

_"If you'll be my star_  
_I'll be your sky_  
_You can hide underneath me and come out at night_  
_When I turn jet black and you sow off your light_  
_I live to let you shine_  
_I live to let you shine_  
_But you can skyrocket away from me_  
_And never come back if you_  
_Find another galaxy_  
_Far_  
_From here_  
_With more room to fly_  
_Just leave me your stardust to remember you by_  
_If you'll be my boat_  
_I'll be your sea_  
_A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity_  
_Ebbing_  
_And flowing_  
_And pushed by a breeze_  
_I live to make you free_  
_I live to make you free_  
_But you can set sail to the west if you want to_  
_And pass the horizon_  
_'Till I can't even see you_  
_Far from here_  
_Where the beaches are wide_  
_Just leave me your wake to remember you by..."_

...

"I don't know why the Doctor isn't taking the threat seriously," Ginger said, for what must've been the millionth time in one of these sessions. "I mean she's still out there somewhere."

"You really think she'd pose a serious risk to you?" Thea asked.

"I mean..._obviously_," Ginger said. "You know what happened last time we saw Doppelginger. She tried to make me kill Jack."

"But she was unsuccessful."

"Not the point! The point is that I know her-"

"From having met her just once?"

"Yes, because she's me! I don't just let things go! And she's ten times more diabolical than I am - I just know she's out there plotting something worse."

"I'm actually agreeing with the Doctor here," Thea said. "I don't think it's healthy for you to be focusing so much on what this other you may or may not be doing."

"But what if she-"

"You can't keep focusing on that," Thea insisted. "You'll just drive yourself mad with the what ifs. I know it's hard to let go of things, especially with your disorder. In fact, it's actually a significant impediment to your progress that you've gotten to meet her at all. Someone with your disorder at your stage of recovery shouldn't be meeting alternate universe versions of yourself."

"Why not?"

"Your sense of self is still unstable. You have a tendency to see yourself only as good or evil and then to split on yourself when you make the slightest mistake. Seeing someone out there doing everything you want to do would activate your low self-worth, but then once you saw what she was capable of it gave you an excuse to project all of your self-hatred at this external source."

Ginger felt uncomfortable by this examination of herself and felt that she should ask something that had been on her mind. "So...you're totally reporting everything I say and do back to the Doctor, right? This is like him being protective and spying on me?"

Thea appeared momentarily surprised by the accusation. "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that you'd make that assumption. You're used to people trying to control you. But this is different. The Doctor specifically programmed me to not be able to give out any information on my patients, even to him. The only exceptions are if you're a danger to yourself or others. Give him more credit."

...

During Alex's first appointment with Thea, Alex noticed something interesting.

"You know, before I knew what was going on with me, I never really thought about it," Alex admitted. "It was just part of being in the world, I assumed that was how everyone felt all the time. But now that I know I'm picking up on people's emotions...I notice it everywhere. At the shops, in restaurants - especially when music is playing. And I have to be in proximity to people to pick up on it. It's different in big crowds - I guess there's a reason people say emotions are contagious. But when it's one-on-one...I always feel something. And I didn't realize until just now how exhausting that is sometimes."

"Why are you realizing that now?" Thea asked.

"Because I don't pick up anything from you," Alex said. "You'd think that would be lonely or weird but it's actually...it's a relief."

"I'm an android," Thea said. "I'm not programmed to have emotions."

"Which is perfect for being my shrink, I guess. If I had to deal with like a human therapist or something...like imagine if they were having a bad day. They could hide it extremely well, but I'd still be able to tell. And it would distract me."

"But I'm a blank canvass you can bounce off of?"

"Essentially."

...

It had only been a few weeks in treatment for Ginger, but for Alex it had been a year since she'd seen her. The Doctor came for regular visits whenever Ginger was having a therapy session. They were having lunch one day when she brought up the subject of Doppelginger.

"Ginger's really very angry at herself for what happened that day," the Doctor said. "The look she gets in her eyes whenever she thinks of her alternate...Well, I try to steer clear of that mine field. I don't think it can do her any good to go out there hunting her down. She needs to focus on her own recovery right now and not worry about whatever the other one could do."

But Alex sensed something. "Oh my God...you've _definitely _been out there looking for Doppelginger! You've been telling Ginger not to worry about her, but you've been looking for her this entire time!"

"Shhh keep it down!" the Doctor said, glancing around as if worried that someone would overhear. "Yes, alright? I've been looking. But she's not so different from our Ginger, in a lot of ways. They know how to disappear without a trace. Doppelginger won't be found unless she wants to be, that's what I'm thinking at this point. I doubt I'll be able to find her again unless she's ready."

"What are you planning to do?" Alex asked. "If you find her?"

"I just want to help her," the Doctor said. "I think there has to be something good still in her. I don't believe she's past saving, whatever she believes. But I don't want Ginger knowing anything about this. Ginger's got a predisposition towards excessive and obsessive behavior - it'll just consume her life."

"And it's not consuming yours?"

"Always so insightful," he said, smiling. "Guess that's your empath thing. It made you quite the brilliant writer - knowing things you shouldn't know about. Are you still doing that, by the way?"

"What? Fictionalizing our lives? I don't usually find the time anymore. Having to be a real grownup gets in the way. But I can let you read what I do still have, if you want."

"I'd like that."

...

Thea requested to see both the Doctor and Ginger at Ginger's next session.

"It's important to acclimate you both to the idea of Ginger leaving," she said, when they'd taken a seat.

"Acclimate...us both?" the Doctor asked. "Is this some kind of trick to get me into therapy? Because I'm fine, the priority here should be making sure Ginger is alright."

"Ginger's emotions are still highly tuned to yours," Thea reminded him. "She's still in the early stages of treatment, so if she can imagine you have a problem with anything then she could use it to backslide. I'd rather do a sort of couples counseling model of treatment just until we can get her out on her own."

"Couples counseling?" Ginger scoffed. "Ridiculous. We're not a couple, never have been."

"I'm attempting to give you a meaningful look," Thea said, glancing at their hands that were still firmly clasped together. "I hope that I am successful in conveying this message non-verbally."

"I'm willing to be here for her," the Doctor said. "But I don't think I need to talk."

"Sure you do," Thea said. "You're not at all apprehensive about letting her out on her own? You don't worry about the pressures of the world getting to her? Especially when you're not there to personally keep any eye on her? You're not going to miss her? And let's not forget how a tiny portion of this is stalling so that you don't have to face your own mortality? You can't deny that you're not feeling significant anxiety over the fact that the moment she's gone, you've got to go meet this prophesy that says you're destined to die. You're both struggling with all of these things, so I think it best to treat you both together."

"What makes you think we're struggling?" Ginger asked, defiantly.

"Your heart rates both got elevated as I was reciting that list, and your cortisol levels rose dramatically."

Ginger leaned over and whispered in his ear. "We still have cortisol?"

"Time Lord biology isn't _that _different from human biology," he muttered back.

"Regardless, how does she pick up on that?"

"I programmed her to be able to scan for these things, and she can hear heart beats."

"Wait if her hearing is so good-"

"Yes, I can hear both of you," Thea said, brightly.

"I thought it would be beneficial for treatment," the Doctor shrugged.

"Didn't think it would be used against you, did you?" Ginger teased, suddenly incredibly fond of him.

"I think we need to address the source of your collective stress," Thea said, undeterred. "Or, rather, the collective source of your short-term stress. It stems from bigger traumas in both of your pasts, but we need to address what it is in the present that is preventing you from moving forward."

"There's really nothing to address-" the Doctor insisted.

"At first glance," she pressed on. "You'd think it's just Ginger who's having the worst problem letting go. After all, she's Borderline. One of the most common symptoms is a feeling of emptiness that they feel desperate to fill any way possible. Borderlines have naturally addictive personalities. That manifested initially by amplifying her autistic need for a special interest - she filled the void with books, music, tv...But then she met you."

"Yes, yes, we all know he filled my void-" Ginger teased.

"Deflection will get you nowhere," Thea said. "As I was saying, Ginger, you started by being addicted, so to speak, to harmless media. But then you did what Borderlines naturally do - you found a favorite person and got addicted to that dynamic."

"At least it's not drugs," she said.

"Which is a miracle, given your history," said Thea. "But the point is that I always knew I'd have to wean you off this relationship, get you from dependency on him to some kind of healthier dynamic. Because with the way this is going, it's going to be impossible to separate the two of you unless you both let go and accept things the way they are."

...

"You know, it's funny," Ginger said to him later. "You tell me all these ways that Time Lord biology is totally different from human's but fail to mention that we still have the same stress hormones."

"Humans and Time Lords actually evolved very similarly," the Doctor said. "Just in completely different environments. The proximity to the Time Vortex changed things, and we made certain scientific advancements...but at the end of the day we pretty much evolved from the same microorganisms. You're familiar with the theory of panspermia?"

"Sounds like something you shouldn't say in front of Jack."

"It's actually a real thing. Essentially little bacterium hitched a ride on asteroids and hit solid ground where they were able to evolve. Humans and Time Lords evolved from the same type of ancient bacterium. Though there are some who outright refused to believe that, despite the evidence...Gallifreyans like to believe that we're special and important."

"What's that face?" Ginger asked, looking him over curiously. "You're making a face."

"It's just...remembering schoolyard debates I used to get into about this topic...with your..." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, with the Master."

"Oh," she said. "Right." Things quickly got awkward. "I, uh...I appreciate how you didn't call him my...Well, you know."

"I figured you wouldn't like that. You're not much for lineages. And who can blame you?"

"Yeah, I'd rather be defined by what I do. Not what some guy did before I was born."

He paused, trying to think of how to bring this up. "You know, if you ever wanted to know...Well, anything about him. I could tell you anything you wanted to know."

"He killed people, that's all I need to know."

"He was really different before. He wasn't always...like that."

"But it's who he became. And you said it yourself once, if he'd known I existed he'd have killed me on Gallifrey. There's nothing I need to know. He wouldn't've wanted to know me, so I don't want to know him."

...

As they continued their treatment, Thea was also popping to London twice a month to talk with Alex. The first few times she made this journey, Alex was quite preoccupied with something.

"How is Ginger?" she'd ask every time. "Will we be able to see her again soon?"

"She's doing quite well, making some great progress," Thea would say. "As for a timeline of when she'll feel up to making a visit...I can't quite say. I've told her she can see you whenever she wants, as long as she stays mindful. But I sense she's apprehensive."

"Why?"

Thea would just smile. "That would break patient confidentiality, Alex."

As Alex's treatment progressed, she'd ask about Ginger less and less. Not because she didn't care, but because she knew that it was useless to ask. That didn't mean that she stopped asking the Doctor whenever he'd pop down for frequent visits.

"She's doing better," the Doctor said one day when Alex was 20 years old. "She needs some time, though. It's been less time for us than it has been for you. She's actually in her appointment with Thea right now."

"She always just happens to be in an appointment when you come for a visit," Alex said. "I get why she'd want to avoid us, but why do you keep showing up so much? It's been hardly any time at all, and yet you've been a constant part of my life for the past two years. Why speed up time like that?"

"You're my daughter," he said simply, taking a sip from his tea.

She smiled, kindly. "And you want to spend some time with me. Before time runs out."

"Is it that obvious?"

"It always was," she replied. "You think I don't know you lied that day when you said you'd done whatever it was you were supposed to have done. You were avoiding something - something that felt like dying. You were terrified. So I kind of just...let you not think about it."

"You didn't think to call me on it?" he asked. "You're usually so direct."

"Doc, I was 17. You're my dad, I didn't want anything to happen to you."

He got up and hugged her then.

"If you wanted to spend the rest of your time with her, I'd understand," she said, accepting the embrace. "You don't have to keep squeezing in extra time with me."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he said. "Nowhere else but here, watching my little girl grow up."

...

"Can I ask you something?" Ginger asked one day as they were returning to the TARDIS from some event or other.

"No, I'm not the Muffin Man," he said. "I've never lived on Drury Lane."

She smiled at him, appreciating the attempt at humor. "I'm serious. I'm just wondering...So much happened that day and I never got to ask..."

"What is it?"

"In the dream...before...Well, _he _showed up...You introduced yourself as Theta. Is that your name? Is that what I should be calling you?"

He took a moment to look her over before answering. "It's not the name I was given at birth, if that's what you're asking. Just a nickname I got at the Academy."

"Very Greek," she said.

"Yeah, well," he said. "I had this reputation for being into humans."

"I can't imagine," she teased. She started to walk away.

"Did you want to know?" he asked.

She stopped. "Want to know what?"

"My name. The one my parents gave me."

It was her turn to regard him. "I grew up all my life with names other people gave me. Got all my power from finally choosing my own. If you want me to know that name, you can tell me. But you don't have to. You didn't say it was your real name, you said it was the name your parents gave you...which leads me to believe you got your power from choosing for yourself. You've let me be who I want to be, without question. Who would you like to be?"

He considered this. "I'd like to be the Doctor."

"Then you are. You're the Doctor. Nobody is allowed to tell you who to be but you."

"I always forget that you understand me better than anyone. What about you? Who will you be?"

She smiled. "That's the question. Am I Ginger? Maybe someday. Gotta figure that all out for myself first."

"We're quite the pair, aren't we? Two of a very strange kind."

"Some might say forged in the same star."

...

The Doctor and Cupid sat side by side on a park bench on a bright spring day.

"How is she?" asked Cupid. 

"She wants to see you. But I wanted to speak to you first."

"Oh?"

"I still don't understand what happened that day. Not completely."

"This is by design. It's safer if you don't know."

"I don't remember a lot of it. I don't even remember her shooting Jack. I remember the sound of the gun shot...but everything else is just images. I can piece them together based on what's been said about it..."

"The drug Doppelginger gave to you is supposed to keep you docile and give you selective memory loss. She wanted to activate Ginger, which would be no good if you had to live with the memory of the Activation and then grew to hate her because of it."

"What does that mean?"

"Another thing that's safer if you don't know."

"At least tell me what sort of device what Doppelginger using to manipulate the walls of reality so quickly. I mean, she _was _using some sort of device? It has to be very advanced."

"Doctor, I'm really advising you not to think too hard about it. If not for your own safety, than for the safety of your Ginger."

"Did you really experience all of that? Everything in Ginger's head?"

"Through the phone, yes. It wasn't physical like it was for you, even if Ginger interpreted it that way. I admit I got a little swept away. It might've turned into a bit of a virtual reality experience at a certain point. I think she somehow started interpreting my voice as a physical presence and some of that leaked out-"

"Leaked out?"

He smiled cryptically. "With her kind, that can sometimes happen. That's why it was vital for you to go in and fix it. Her reality and ours are not designed to mix."

"You know her so well. You must've known from the beginning that she split herself into multiple personas centered around that necklace of hers."

"No, I had no idea. I started to gain an idea after you pulled that cuddlier version out of that bedroom, but I wasn't entirely sure until later. I think maybe she needed both of us to be able to heal. It ultimately had to be you in the end, but she needed to work through her feelings of betrayal for me. Which reminds me...You shouldn't be so harsh to the Corsair. She had it tougher in a lot of ways than I did. You're just being hard on her because it gives you someone immediate to be upset with. You should be as equally upset with me, because I failed to protect her. I knew, and yet I couldn't stop it. The only reason you're less upset with me is because I am some harmless middle-aged white man who your girl has fond memories of, but if you're upset with her then you should be upset with me too."

"I know that you regret it."

"Oh I regret so much. Right now I regret that I couldn't feel her hug me when we were still in her mind. I haven't touched anyone except with gloved hands for many centuries. I can't, not with my condition. She wanted to see me?"

The Doctor nodded and motioned back toward the TARDIS, where Ginger was watching on the view screen. "I'll give you some time." He left just before Ginger reached the bench and sat down.

"You look well, my dear," he said. "Your aura has stabilized quite a lot."

"I want to talk about her," she said.

He nodded. "I thought you might."

"I mean, she's out of her mind, clearly. There's something very wrong with her. But I feel the same things that she does, so I need to know if she was telling the truth."

"About what?"

"She said something about being in movies and making albums. She didn't _really _do that. I mean she can't be hotter than me _and _have the career I always wanted."

"Ah," said Cupid, awkwardly ruffling his hair as he tried to figure out how to answer. "Well, I mean, she did do that. She had an enormously successful career."

"There are other Gingers, you said so. Am I the only one who hasn't had a career?"

"On the contrary," Cupid said. "The one you call 'Doppelginger' is actually the only exception. She likes to flaunt it in her doppelganger's faces that she's accomplished more than them because, well this is the Sunset Boulevard of her life, or at least it very nearly is if it keeps going in this direction. She needs to feel superior to you. And, for the record, she puts in a lot of effort on her appearance. An absurd amount of time. That doesn't mean she's hotter than you. That just means she's more insecure about her relationship with her Doctor."

"I know she's wearing extensions," Ginger said. "My hair could never be that perfect."

"How are you coping?" he asked. "Not just with what happened, but with all that you now understand."

"Honestly? I'm pissed off. You mean to tell me that my entire life was manipulated to be as bad as possible so that I could play honey trap? It's sexist. Demeaning."

"Hold on to that feeling."

The Doctor had spent weeks telling her to let it go for now, so this surprised her. "What?"

"I don't necessarily mean _do _something with it, but you need to hold onto it. Because you're right. All that you are _was _manipulated to be a pawn. But the fact that you continually change the game means that you can be more than that. You were raised to be an agent of chaos."

She chuckled darkly. "Once upon a time, I would've found that flattering."

"I know," he smiled fondly. "But what I'm saying is that you don't have to be. You're already breaking the pattern, so keep doing that. You have the potential to be the first Ginger to make a life that doesn't orbit around the Doctor. You can be a whole person, and not just a character in his ever-expanding drama." 

"I'm very confused about you," she admitted. "I don't know what to do with the information that you're alive. And that you're apparently Welsh."

"I hope you're not too cross with me. I did only what I could under the circumstances."

"You could've let me die."

"Selfishly enough, I loved you far too much to let that happen. That's honestly why I'm so proud of you now."

"You're proud of me?"

"So proud. You're so much more than anyone could've expected. I told the Doctor that nobody should ever love anyone as much as you love each other because it's intense and destructive. But you've proved me wrong. You love him more than any other Ginger I've ever seen. You love him so much that you're willing to let him go to save him. I was too selfish to let you go even when I found out what would happen to you, and perhaps that's where you learned that from. But you broke the pattern. You're so much stronger than I've ever been, and that makes me proud. This is the bravest, most selfless thing you've ever done. You know, I was so angry when I found out why I had to leave you, what they were trying to do to you. I wanted to adopt you. I fought so hard for it. But it wasn't allowed. I should've kept you from the very beginning. You never should've had to suffer. I don't know how anyone could ever think you were less than perfect. At least I could give you what time I was allowed. And I could give you him, as complicated and messy as that was bound to be. Any father would want his daughter to be loved unconditionally. You were always so restless, and you had time to see the stars."

"I'm not ready to go," she admitted, with tears in her eyes.

"I know," he said, softly. "But you're being so very brave. You'll just have to keep being brave. Let this be the one universe where I don't lose you. Please. Just stay alive. If not for anyone's sake, then because I still haven't told you everything. There are answers out there, but the only way to find them is to keep living."

She smiled at him. "It's a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going on hiatus for 2 weeks. Things have been tough since I've lost half my income for at least another month and I'm also off my meds for the foreseeable future (long story, but the only clinic that carries what I'm on has been shut down due to coronavirus concerns). See you when I see you. And thank you for going on this journey with me.


	50. A Bird's Song

"I think it's time we started looking for places for Ginger to live," Thea said one day. "I'm working on generating a list of places in time and space that I feel she could thrive in. I'll complete it tonight and present it to you tomorrow. The two of you can spend the day looking. Would you like me to accompany you for support? I am a licensed social worker."

"She is?" Ginger whispered to the Doctor, forgetting again that whispering was useless around her.

"No, but it's useless trying to convince her that she isn't since she has all the technical knowledge of one," the Doctor muttered back. "Here. Watch this." He spoke to Thea then. "Thea?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Are you a licensed therapist?"

"Yes."

"So you have attended school to become a therapist?"

"No. I was programmed."

"So...you have a license to practice therapy?"

"No I do not."

"So you're not a therapist?"

"My name is an acronym for THEraputic Android."

Ginger whispered again. "It is?"

"Eh..." he said. "Truthfully, I just liked the name. But she assumed that it must be an acronym so I kind of just...let her believe-"

"That you're cleverer than you are?" she smirked.

"Alright, so Thea," the Doctor said. "You didn't study to be a therapist, you have no license to practice therapy."

"That is correct."

"So are you a licensed therapist?" he pressed.

"Yes I am," she said, brightly.

The Doctor turned to Ginger then, very amused. "See? Can't make her understand the difference."

"I figure it hardly matters, as long as no one checks her credentials," Ginger said, amused. "I mean, hell...Do you have any right to judge someone's credentials? I've never seen you pull out a medical license, Doc. Not one that wasn't on psychic paper, anyway."

"Doctor doesn't just mean healer, you know," the Doctor muttered. "Medicals doctors are just a _type _of doctor..."

"I know, I know," she smiled. "Doctors are just people who specialize in an area, I gotcha..."

...

Many years had gone by in Alex Mitchell's timeline. She'd studied just about everything at university because she couldn't make herself pick a path. She and Sky ended up living in a flat together in London while they studied. But for every thing that changed, many things stayed the same. For instance, even at the age of 23 she saw the same therapist.

"Are you feeling anxious, Alex?" Thea asked.

"I'm fine," Alex insisted.

Thea had expected this - Alex usually had to be nudged more to get to open up. "It just seems like maybe you've got something on your mind. You've been a bit quiet."

"I'm just tired," Alex said. "Been a long week."

"What have you been up to?"

"Mostly schoolwork. You know me, don't go out much."

"Is that because other people make you anxious or is the source of your anxiety something from inside?"

"I mean, it's just...The last couple of years have been alright, you know? Comfortable. Definitely better than the years before them. There've been some...not great times, to say the least. Especially on a global scale. Even with my anxiety about Ginger and knowing that every time I see the Doctor, it might be the last time...I don't know, I've gotten to a point where I've accepted it."

"You don't like that, but you've accepted it. You've come such a long way in your therapy, accepting things outside of your control. What is it specifically that's bothering you today?"

"Well, uh...Sky's just told me...Actually, it's silly. I'm happy for her."

"Are you?"

"Yeah I am. It would be selfish to not be happy for her."

"It's not selfish to feel unhappy. You're always feeling what everyone else is feeling. You need to-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Let myself feel something for once. That's what you always say. But it's stupid. Sky's just...she's moving on. Doing her own thing. Got accepted to a great study abroad program at the University of Michigan. She hasn't decided whether she's actually going to go yet."

"Ah," Thea said, feeling that they'd broken through to the root of the issue. "And you're sad that your sister - because she _is _your sister at this point - is going to be in Ann Arbor while you stay here in London?"

"No," she said, stubbornly. "That's ridiculous. I'm happy for her. She hasn't even decided if she'll go yet." And that's all she'd say on the matter.

"She was your quarantine partner," Thea reminded her. "Last year, when all that happened. You didn't need to quarantine, you'd been given a universal vaccination years ago, but you did anyway because it was the responsible thing to do. You got very used to her being around. It's only natural that you're anxious about having to let her go."

"It's fine, really," said Alex. "I'm just being silly." And that was all she'd say on the matter.

...

It turned out to be harder than they thought it would be to find somewhere Ginger could live. They showed her many cities in many eras and she kept finding things she didn't like about each place they looked. Things would seem to be going perfect, but then she'd find a reason to back out at the last minute.

"You know, no place is ever going to be perfect," the Doctor said to her while they were in session with Thea. "I mean we'll keep looking, of course, until we find something-"

"Yes we will," Thea cut in. "Can I confess something to you? This whole exercise has been a test."

"A test?" Ginger asked. "I don't like tests, myself. Clever of you to not tell me I was being tested, otherwise I woulda flunked for sure."

"Oh you both still failed," Thea said.

"I don't understand," the Doctor said. "Are you trying to tell us that you _don't _want Ginger to move out?"

"I have no wants, Doctor," Thea said. "I am an android. But I'd have to say, no. I wouldn't want her to have to leave. She loves it here. Am I wrong in saying that?"

"No," Ginger admitted. "It's the only truly happy place I can remember. At least the only place where I didn't have to play a character to feel happy. It's the first place that felt like home."

"So of course it would be painful to break her from here," Thea continued. "But it's also necessary. You both need to grow as individuals. I posited that if I gave you a list of ideal places for Ginger to live, you'd both keep stalling."

"I'm not stalling!" the Doctor said. "I know she is, but I'm trying to help!"

"No, you're too willing to let her keep stalling because it means you don't have to expose yourself by doing the stalling yourself," Thea replied. "You're still being held back. You need to really come to terms with the way you feel about each other."

"We're friends," Ginger said.

"So you've said repeatedly," said Thea. "But words don't always convey what the heart wants."

"That's...weird," Ginger said. "What a weird, uncomfortable way to phrase that. Thanks." She rolled her eyes. "Look, we had a thing."

"For a while," the Doctor cut in.

"It didn't last."

"It's over now."

"Over," Thea said. "Interesting little English word, that. Literal interpretation as being above something. From the way you speak, it's as though you always thought you were above such petty concerns as love. But maybe now's the time to admit that you have been in love. Maybe not in a good way, but in a real way. With each other."

"That's ridiculous," Ginger rolled her eyes. "I think there's a difference between having this connection and actually being in love in any kind of helpful way. Sure we had a lot of really great sex, but it's not exactly something I'm proud of."

"And why's that?" Thea asked.

"Well, because," she floundered, at a loss. "Alright, maybe I do think I'm better than that, but it's still mortifying."

"Why?"

"Because it's wrong," she said. "It's just...manipulation. Chemical reactions. We know better now."

"Wrong," Thea said. "You're trying to moralize it. Why would it be wrong?"

"Well, because she's the Master's daughter," the Doctor said. "That kind of changes things. On Gallifrey we had all these ways of tracking lineages - everyone always made sure we weren't crossing anyone's lines."

"But Ginger was born in secret," Thea reminded them. "She was raised away from all this. I'm not saying you should be together - for one thing, she's too young and it's too early in her recovery - but I am saying maybe you're looking in the wrong place for a reason to end it. You two are so complex. Searching for reasons not to be together while at the same time searching for excuses to keep being together."

"That's not what this is-" Ginger started.

"Until you admit the way you feel for each other, I don't think you'll be able to move forward," Thea said. "Either of you. You repressed your love for each other for so long that it manifested in this toxic way. Now you're doing so much better but you can't quit cold turkey without talking about it. It's just a Repression Reprise."

"Reprise," Ginger said. "You like music?"

Thea smiled. "I have no feelings, so the Doctor says unfortunately I will never understand music. But I understand that you process this way, so I'm attempting to make you understand. And honestly it's not just that. You both have to get comfortable with the idea of letting go. So that's your assignment. Talk to each other. Process."

Ginger awkwardly got to her feet. "Alright. Homework. So that means we're done?"

"I think this is as good a stopping place as any," Thea said.

"Great."

The Doctor watched her leave with some amusement. "She still hasn't really mastered the art of socialization," he observed. "She just leaves so abruptly..." A hint of sadness entered his eyes. "You really think we should talk?"

Thea nodded. "I do. I think it's time. How long have you been holding onto these feelings for her?"

"But if it's not the right time-"

"It's the only time. Try. Feel it out. This is your moment."

"But-"

"It's very interesting, the way you say out loud that you don't care for her in this way. You tell me, you tell Cupid, but you won't tell her."

"I won't make her uncomfortable. It's important that she be comfortable."

"Sometimes we have to risk discomfort. Discomfort is infinitely preferable to regret. She's never felt real, unconditional love before. Wouldn't it be worth it to make her believe in it?"

"Sure, make her believe in it before I snatch it away."

"You wouldn't be snatching it away. You're leaving, sure, but if you leave without telling her, she might just end up convincing herself that you couldn't get out of here fast enough. It might help her to understand _why _you're doing this."

...

The Doctor and Ginger stood on opposite sides of the TARDIS console, pretending to be looking at the various buttons and dials.

"So do we...need to talk?" the Doctor asked her, anxiously. He wanted to so badly. The truth was simmering under his skin and he needed to say it. But he was afraid.

"No, of course not," she said. "We never had anything to talk about."

This was disappointing, but enough to make him chicken out of saying anything. "I'm sure this last place on Thea's list will be perfect," the Doctor said. "We'll check it out tomorrow."

"Where is it?"

"London. 2021."

"Oh, nice, London. There's no place like London."

"No," he grinned. "There's no place like London."

"So what should we do with our time?" she asked. "We'll go tomorrow, but I don't really feel like sleeping just yet. Any, uh...last requests?" She backtracked. "Sorry, I was attempting dark humor and that was a little too morbid-"

"Actually, I took it the other way," he said, having an idea. "Are you taking song requests?"

...

These days, the Doctor always felt anxious when Ginger was too quiet for too long. That last burst of suicidal tendency on the day she met her doppelganger was burned into his memory. He couldn't help but leap to conclusions that whenever she was gone too long she was relapsing and hurting herself in some way.

He took a deep, shaky breath and tried to banish these thoughts. He looked around at the holodeck, still decked out with a stage except he'd traded the karaoke mic for one of those old fashioned ones from early jazz clubs. A spot came up on center stage and there was Ginger.

"It's a perfect replica of that dress from the night we met," she said, smiling bashfully at him.

"I hope you don't mind me saying but..." he said. "You look good. And I don't mean that in a...I mean that you look more...confident. You look like you've finally grown into yourself. And that's wonderful."

Her red-painted lips curved up in a smile as she smoothed down her silky black dress. "What do you think you're staring at, Casanova?"

He smiled. "You, of course. Shining like the brightest star. I'm actually staring at your hair...I remember how short it was and now it cascades around your shoulders...It's grown so much. You've grown so much. And I'm proud to have known you."

She groaned, trying to shake off these emotions. "You're trying to make me cry, Time Lord, and I won't have that. I'll ruin my makeup."

"No, can't have that," he said, collecting himself.

"Alright," she said, leaning into the microphone. "I'm here for just one song tonight. My dearest friend and biggest nuisance, The Doctor, has requested a last song from me to play us out. Me, being the benevolent attention-whore I am, just had to oblige. He pointed out that we had unfinished business - specifically that the night we met, I never finished the song I was singing. So tonight, for him, it's time to finish it. Yes, my imaginary audience...This is my encore performance of 'Heart Sized Crush' by Devil Doll."

The song started from the beginning, a perfect up-tempo swing number that Ginger had never felt she did justice to. She'd always felt it was too sexy for her, and she'd never understood how to embody a character who had those sort of feelings. She glanced at the Doctor briefly as the song started, her mouth twisting into a crooked smile that somehow managed to convey her newfound confidence and a sort of anxious sorrow while also managing to try to shrug this all off as just a funny joke. She could always be so many things at once.

_"When I saw you up on stage_  
_My heart was in a blazing rage_  
_My thighs nearly went up in flames_  
_I knew I had to get your name_  
_We talked the whole night through_  
_And I never got sick of you_  
_And then you left that afternoon_  
_And since then I've been thinkin' of you_

_I just want to see you again_  
_Whether we become lovers_  
_Or whether we become friends..."_

He remembered being mesmerized, almost spellbound the first time he'd heard her sing this, but this was different. She'd thought she was alone that first time. But this performance was for him. He recalled how endearing he'd found her first performance of this song and compared it to now. It was still her, it was still Ginger. A tiny bit self-conscious, not taking it entirely seriously, but that look in her eyes when they met his...She understood this song now. She understood all the songs now. It wasn't a character, it was real. So he was grateful that he hadn't requested a sadder song. This was closure enough. The bookend to their little story.

_"I got a heart sized crush on you_

_Oh do you think of me the way I think of you_  
_I know I've only seen you once but I imagine what you can do_  
_Maybe we'll never meet again but that's not up to me or you_  
_But still I've got a heart sized crush on you_

_I was there outside the show_  
_I had no plans no place to go_  
_You returned every look I'd throw_  
_You grabbed my hand and said, "let's go"_  
_It felt just like a movie_  
_I can't explain what you did to me_  
_Was it real or just a dream_  
_Or too good to be true if you know what I mean?_

_I just want to see you again_  
_Whether we become lovers_  
_Or whether we become friends..."_

The song ended and she kept her eyes focused on the floor, trying to force a smile.

"That was wonderful," he said. "Everything I'd hoped it would be."

"I just want to see you again," she whispered, still not looking at him. "I don't care what we are to each other, I don't like the idea of you being gone." She laughed to herself. "Ridiculous, isn't it? I'm being completely stupid."

"It's not stupid to feel things," the Doctor said gently.

"That song," she said softly. "It's us. How did we end up living that song?"

"We've lived every good love song ever written, I expect."

"When you met me, I was up on stage," she reminded him. "We talked the whole night through and I never got sick of you. Then you left that afternoon and since then I've been thinking of you." She brushed away tears. "Was it real or just a dream or too good to be true?"

He couldn't stop himself from hopping onto the stage next to her and taking her in his arms. She clung to him, trying her hardest not to cry. She started to pull away, but her instinct moved her to kiss him.

He kissed her back just for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. "I'm going to go with real."

"I wish it was that simple," she sighed. "Everything feels like an ending now. We keep doing the same old things we always did - well, not _all _of the same things we always did - but each time it feels like saying goodbye. That felt like saying goodbye without saying goodbye."

"I know," he said. "I guess...I guess this song has ended."

"Maybe that's what they meant?" Ginger offered. "When they said your song was ending? Maybe you don't have to die, maybe it's just...maybe it's just this. Couldn't the prophesy just be literal this time? This song has ended. Literally."

"Ginger," he said softly. "I really don't know."

She was trying so hard not to cry. "Yeah." She smiled through the pain. "That's sort of the point, isn't it?" She pulled away from him. "I'm kinda tired. Think I'll go to bed. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah," he said as she walked away.

_Say it now, _the Doctor berated himself internally. _Come on, you're not going to have a better opportunity, just tell her._

He turned to look at her just as she reached the door. "Wait, Ginger, hold on."

She paused with a hand on the door frame. "Yeah?" She turned to face him. "What is it?"

"I..." he stammered, hopping down from the makeshift stage. "I just...I wanted to..." The way she was looking at him made it that much harder. "If there's not going to be another chance..."

"Doctor," she said, crossing the room to stand in front of him. She scanned him with eyes filled with confusion and concern. "What is it?"

"I just..." He swallowed. "Wanted to ask if you'd have a hot chocolate with me. Just one more time. I'm not really in the mood for being alone just yet."

_Coward, _his internal monologue continued. _Absolute coward, you can't even say it now!_

"Yeah," Ginger said, nodding. "Of course. I'd like nothing better. Can I change first? Meet you back here in 10?"

...

Ginger returned 10 minutes later to find the holodeck had been converted back to a living room space. 

The Doctor handed her a cup of hot chocolate.

"Just the way you like it," he said.

She took a sip and closed her eyes. "Mmm. Yeah. Perfect."

The Doctor watched her closely. Say_ it. Just say it. _

Ginger opened her eyes and smiled at him. "What?" she asked. "Do I have whip cream on my face?"

He smiled back as the moment passed. "No. What is this, some kind of movie?"

"Is that what this is about?" she asked, settling down on her old spot on the sofa and leaning her back against the arm rest. She tucked her legs underneath her and sipped her hot chocolate the way she'd done a million times before. "You want to watch a movie? One more for the road? Better pick a good one."

"Nah," he said, sitting down in his spot opposite her. He also leaned his back against the arm rest, but left his legs stretched out. It's an unavoidable consequence with legs that long that they must go somewhere. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"About?"

_Say it say it say it._

"Nothing in particular," he lied. 

She smiled. "Our best conversations are about nothing in particular."

He smiled back. "They are."

A short silence fell between them as they sipped their drinks. She was facing him, but her eyes were fixed off in the distance and were taking in nothing in particular. He studied her face, trying to memorize it in the dim light.

_Say it. _What_ are you so afraid of?_

And suddenly he knew. He couldn't just say it, he was still afraid of how she'd react if he said it first. _What if she reacts badly? She reacts badly to nearly everything she doesn't initiate. What if it pushes her away? Wouldn't that be good though? She's supposed to leave and if that makes it easier...Oh no what if it makes it harder? What if admitting things out loud makes it impossible to let go? Thea's got me all mixed up on this one..._

"I should probably go to bed," Ginger said after a bit. "Not that I really want to, don't know how I'm going to sleep. But I probably should. Seems I'm _always doing what I think I should _these days."

"Ginger," the Doctor said slowly as he put his mug on the coffee table next to him. "Don't you just..." He felt stupid and silly and all sorts of other things just for asking this. "Don't you just want to say it? Out loud? And not in a song? Just once? Just in case?"

She looked at him over the top of her mug, eyes unreadable in the dim light.

"Oh don't give me that," he pressed. "You're not talking to Thea or Cupid, this is me. I know you better. I know you know what I'm saying. You don't need to pretend like you don't. We both know what this is about now, and you don't have to keep on with the 'say what' routine like you don't know-"

"I didn't say 'say what'," Ginger said in a low voice. "It's a reasonable assumption that I would, but if you go back over the transcripts, you'll find that I didn't even get a chance for a rebuttal before you put words in my mouth."

He paused, realizing that she was right. "Oh. Well. That's alright then. But don't you want to say it?"

She took a deep breath and steeled herself as she put her mug on the side table and stood up. She looked at him. "Yeah, I guess I should," she said, clasping her hands in front of her. "If it's my last chance to say it..." There was a lingering pause while she tried to figure out the most delicate way to say this. "Doctor..."

"Yes?" He was holding his breath as he stood up, but he didn't know why.

"I..." She gazed into his eyes as they stood so close that they could feel each other's breath. "Don't like Star Trek."

It wasn't what he was hoping to hear, but it was exactly what he needed to hear. It was as if all the tension was released from the room as she cracked a smile, the first real genuine smile he'd seen in ages, and his heart soared as he heard her begin to laugh. 

"I _knew _it!" he exclaimed, half-teasing, half-vindicated. "I've been trying to get you to admit that for months!"

"I'm sorry!" she laughed. "I tried, I really really tried, but I just don't get it."

"So why didn't you tell me to put something else on?" he threw himself back onto the sofa and kicked up the leg rest on his side of the reclining sofa. "You didn't have to put up with it just for me!"

"I wasn't putting up with it for you!" she rolled her eyes as she flopped back down on the sofa, kicking up her leg rest so she could lie next to him without touching him. "I mean, in a way I was, but also...I liked that you liked it. I was raised to believe that liking things - actually _enjoying _things - made you weird or strange. So I've spent so long pretending like I don't care about anything. But you just...you care. You _enjoy _things." She finally looked up at him. "I like that so much about you."

He looked at her. "But you don't like Star Trek," he reminded her. "You can't enjoy me liking something so much that it overrides you not liking that thing. And for the record, there are _many _things I enjoy more than Star Trek. I just pulled it out as something easy to follow while we were both high, but I knew instantly that you didn't like it. So I feel bad that I made you sit through it."

"You really don't get it, do you?"

He was lost. "Get what?"

"Watching Star Trek with you wasn't about watching Star Trek. I liked being around you. It was fun because it was you." She sat up straighter. "Actually, let me show you." She raised a hand but paused before she could touch him. "This time, make an effort. Look at me." She brushed her fingers against his cheek.

_They were watching Star Trek. He remembered this vaguely. It was during the month that they spent high._

_"Are they seriously doing a eugenics plot like it's just okay?" Ginger asked._

_He wondered if she was finally going to do it after all this time. He knew she didn't like Star Trek, he just needed her to admit it._

_He barely glanced away from the screen as he answered. "Not one of their finest moments," he admitted. "Still, I hold out. I like human optimism. It's a trait not every species has."_

_He'd assumed that she'd barely repressed her bitter disappointment in the show for his benefit, but he reminded himself that he was inhabiting a memory. He forced himself to go against his better judgment and turned to look at her._

_He was expecting a look of incredulity or at least something a bit closer to her usual embittered gaze, but that's not what he found. Her eyes were so soft as she contemplated him, fondness and something like the beginnings of love stirring in that gaze._

He opened his eyes in the present to see almost the same expression before him, except a little wiser and a little sadder.

"I imagine I kept on with Star Trek for the same reason you pretend you like a lot of the music I listen to," she said softly.

"I don't pretend," he insisted.

She smiled. "Of course you do. Not for all of it. I believe you like Garbage and Fiona Apple and Regina Spektor. I _don't _believe you like Jack Off Jill or Bikini Kill. Not really."

"I like that they mean something to you," he said. "I did my thesis at the Academy on Earth's punk and grunge subculture in the 90s, so I knew enough to keep up with you...but you're right, beyond my own fascination with the medium, I never connected with the material."

"See?" she replied. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"That was real?" he asked, his mind still on the way she was looking at him in the memory. "You didn't change the ending?"

"I caught myself a moment later," she admitted. "It was too early and we were both high. I could explain it away."

"I never knew that," he said.

"You weren't looking."

"Because I knew you didn't like people looking at you."

"You don't look at me though. You see me. And you like me anyway. In spite of what you see."

"I don't like you in spite of what I see, I like you because of what I see. The more I've gotten to know you, the more I..."

_Say it say it._

She was sitting so close to him. She was right there, inches away, it would take no effort at all just to touch her. Her eyes had been fixed on his, but they traveled to his lips as he struggled to craft the syllables.

This was...

_A really bad idea._

"We should-" the Doctor began.

"Yeah," Ginger nodded, getting to her feet at the same time as him.

"Sleep well?" the Doctor said.

"You too," she replied, hurriedly rushing from the room.

...

On the other side of the ship, the TARDIS whirred a reply to Thea and Cupid.

"Hm," Cupid said. "Disappointing."

"They're still not talking," Thea said, nodding.

"They need to," Cupid replied. "They need closure. You said they came close to saying what they mean?"

The TARDIS whirred a reply.

"A song isn't the same as actually saying it," Thea said. 

"It is for her," said Cupid.

"Yes, but it also gives her a convenient way out," Thea said. "It's just a performance. They need to be honest with each other or they're never really going to let go."

"The problem is that they won't listen to each other," Cupid says. "It's like they're speaking different dialects of the same language. If only there was a way to translate it. To make them understand that they _are _saying it every moment of every day. Everything they do is screaming it, they just can't hear it."


	51. Music Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is a musical episode. I apologize, if this were a real TV show I'd do a Moulin Rouge thing and they'd be singing their feelings all the time and there'd be no need for this. AIG barely works in a written format, I've always said that.
> 
> Anyway, my last remaining job was shut down for a few days because a coworker got Coronavirus. We've been monitoring me closely and I don't seem to have any symptoms (unless you count stuff that could be my anxiety). Work is reopening tomorrow and I'm due back then. Hope everyone is staying safe.
> 
> I know my work can be kinda...eh. And also kinda...wtf. But like if anyone has any validation to give me on any of my fics, it's basically all that's sustaining me rn lol.

Ginger awoke the next morning and went to find the Doctor. She looked everywhere for him, even looked in the hammock beneath the TARDIS console because he'd been sleeping there lately, but couldn't find him. She opened his bedroom door and found him still asleep. This was surprising because he was usually awake first.

She knew that she should leave, give him a little privacy. But she couldn't tear herself away. She stood in the doorway with her hand on the frame and looked at him. So peaceful. So without pretense. She was almost overwhelmed with sadness because she knew she'd never see him like this again.

She didn't think about it as a sad piano melody entered her head and she opened her mouth to sing with it.

_"Love ridden, I've looked at you_  
_With the focus I gave to my birthday candles_  
_I've wished on the lidded blue flames..._  
_Under your brow_  
_And baby, I wished for you..."_

Her footsteps were soft as she crossed the room to him. 

_"Nobody sees when you are lying in your bed_  
_And I wanna..."_

She began to climb up onto the bed.

_"Crawl in with you..."_

She stopped herself.

_"But I cry instead..."_

She laid on her side to look into his sleeping face.

_"I want your warmth, but it will only make me colder when it's over..."_ She rolled off of the bed and kept her back to him. _"So I can't tonight, baby."_

She turned sharply back to him.

_"No! Not "baby" anymore!_  
_If I need you I'll just use your simple name_  
_Only kisses on the cheek from now on_  
_And in a little while, we'll only have to wave..."_

She was seized by a sudden intolerable passion and ran from the room and flattened herself against the wall in the hallway.

_"My hand won't hold you down, no more!"_ She ran to the control room. _"Your path is clear to follow through."_ She rushed down the steps and stood directly in front of the door with her back turned to it. _"I stood too long in the way of the door!"_ She clutched her necklace and turned back to face the door._ "And now I'm..."_ She sank down to sit on the bottom step. _"Giving up on..."_

"Hello?" came a voice from behind her. "Ginger, is that you in there? Are you singing?"

Ginger hastily got to her feet as the Doctor came into the room. She was a tiny bit disoriented to be shaken from her contemplation. "No...I don't think? Maybe? Sorry, maybe I was doing that out loud." She rushed to rationalize it. "Hope I didn't wake you?"

"You didn't," the Doctor said, coming to stand by the control panel. "What are you doing down by the door?"

"Nothing," she said hastily.

He frowned. "Not running out on me, are you? Because we haven't found you a place to live yet and I don't want you to leave without at least a packed bag."

She smiled. "No, not leaving just yet. Just thinking."

"About?"

She didn't want to say. "Breakfast?"

He smiled. "Good idea."

...

Ginger sat at the kitchen table sipping her morning tea while the Doctor made breakfast. He was chattering about something or other and she was smiling at him whenever there was a moment when he couldn't see.

The whole world seemed to dim until it was only them in the warm bubble of the kitchen. She could almost swear that in her mind it was all going in slow motion, but that could be her finally allowing herself to enjoy a comfort zone.

She could hear music in her mind, but once again didn't realize it even when she started singing. She watched as he flipped the pancakes.

_"Baby you've got the sort of hands to rip me apart..."_ He smiled at a joke he made and the smile was contagious. She liked the way it reached his eyes. _"And baby you've got the sort of face to start this old heart..."_ Her smile faded and she rested an elbow against the table that she used to prop her face up as she regarded him. _"But your eyes are warning me this early morning that my love's too big for you, my love."_

The Doctor continued telling his story. "And I swear this is true, I was running for my life and got the door slammed behind me before I noticed I'd walked in on him and Plato! I kind of just left them to it, I mean they'd be no use to me in that condition."

"Probably smart," Ginger replied with a smile. "Sounds like he had a lot on his _Plato _at that moment."

He laughed at the terrible joke, throwing his whole body into it as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. It was a sweet, genuine, almost melodic laugh in her opinion. It was just the music she'd been longing to hear, so she didn't notice when she started singing again.

_"Baby you've got the sort of laugh that waters me and makes me grow tall and strong and proud and flattens me..."_ She gazed at him with a longing that betrayed how much her heart was breaking._ "I find you stunning, but you are running me down. My love's too big for you, my love."_

"Can you grab this plate for me?" the Doctor asked.

She got up to do just that.

_"And if I was stronger then I would tell you no_  
_And if I was stronger then I will leave this show_  
_And if I was stronger then I would up and go_  
_But here I am."_

She turned back to him just as he looked up at her and smiled.

_"And here we go again."_

The music faded away.

"Sorry," the Doctor said. "Did you say something?"

She shook her head to clear it. "No. No I was just...probably thinking out loud." She sat down and he took the seat opposite her. "Where are we going today?"

"London."

"London when? We've tried lots of London."

"Soho," said the Doctor. "There's a place near Alex's place that just opened up."

"Alex's place?" Ginger repeated. "Alex has a place?"

"She's a lot older," the Doctor said. "Almost as old as you by now."

"Huh. I almost can't imagine that. Alex Mitchell as an actual grownup."

"I was actually thinking that we should drop by," the Doctor said. He'd practiced this bit and Ginger could tell. "Say hello. If you're gonna be neighbors."

Ginger was gripped by the same anxiety that she felt every time he brought up the subject. "Oh I don't know," she said. "You think I'm ready for that? You think they'd actually want to see me?"

"They haven't stopped asking about you," the Doctor said. "It's been years and they always ask for an update. They miss you. Especially Jack. He's needy."

Ginger laughed. "I sort of miss Jack too, weirdly enough. Don't tell him that, though. He gloats worse than you do." She frowned. "Or at least she did when I knew him..."

"Jack Harkness has been around for centuries and he hasn't changed that much," the Doctor said. "What makes you think he'd change in the short time you've been away?"

...

Alex was pacing in her living room.

"Stop being so anxious," she snapped at Jack. "You're making me worse."

"Sorry," he said. "I'll try to keep it down over here."

She softened then, stopping to look at him. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just...Ginger's coming back. It's been 5 years. How do you think she'll be?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Jack said. "The Doctor didn't say anything else to you about it?"

"No, just that she said she's ready." There was a knock at the door. "That'll be them. I can literally feel it."

"Maybe it's just some really shell-shocked Jehovah's Witnesses?" Jack teased.

...

The Doctor could sense Ginger's anxiety as they stood outside Alex's front door.

"Wow, she's got a flat now and everything," Ginger said, staring firmly at the door. "That's like...so grownup. I never did that. I just crashed places. And who could blame me? All these apartments I keep looking at keep being total busts."

"Ginger," he said, gently taking her by the arms and forcing her to look at him. "You'll be fine. There's nothing to be nervous about."

"I hate that you all saw me like that," she said. "I wish I could just retcon the whole thing."

"I know," he said, kindly. "But nobody else is holding that against you. We care about you. Are you ready?"

She considered this, but then nodded. He smiled and turned away from her to knock on the door.

The door opened and a pretty brunette stood behind it. It was definitely Alex, she was just older.

"Knew that had to be you," Alex said nervously. "I could feel the anxiety leaking in from under the door."

"Sorry about that," Ginger said, equally anxiously. Her hand twitched as if reaching out of habit for the Doctor's but thinking better of it.

"It's alright," Alex said, not really sure what to say.

"Wow," Ginger said, staring at her. "Doc said it's been 5 years but...I didn't really believe it until now. I can't believe how grown up you are. You must be my age."

"I'm 23 now. And you look exactly the same," Alex said, shaking her head. "I'll never get over that with time travelers. You lot never age."

"Where's your uncle?" Ginger asked, glancing around.

"Now I'm just her uncle?" Jack asked, coming forward. "Thought we were becoming friends, Snappy."

She softened, but there was still a bit of awkwardness in the air. "You lot going to invite us in, then?" she asked.

"Are you vampires now?" Kira asked, walking into the room. "Now _that _would be an interesting plot twist for Alex's stories."

"Kira!" Ginger exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" She gave Alex a knowing look. "Are you two-?"

"Oh no no," Alex said, quickly. "We're not back together. She's been staying over in the guest room while she's in town for work. I've been subletting the room since Sky moved out. And no," she added to Ginger. "I won't invite you in. Kira makes a good point with the vampire comment. Can't just invite people in willy nilly. That's not what you taught me."

Ginger laughed, genuinely impressed by the comment. "You still remember."

"That you said only invite vampires in if they're hot? That's not an easy thing to forget. Can't believe I didn't see the signs of vampirism on you before. Aversion to sunlight, only comes out at night, attracted to counterculture...bet if I got out a cross or holy water you'd burst into flames."

"Oh I'd put money on it," Ginger said.

Alex sighed, pretending to be weary. "Alright then. I hearby invite you in."

"How did the apartment hunt go?" Jack asked, as they entered.

"It's a bust," Ginger said, flopping down in an armchair. "I can't find a place I like well enough. We've been all over, in all kinds of times and places. Different planets and the like. But just...nothing fits. Nothing feels right."

"Well why don't you move in here?" Kira asked. "There's a third room here that nobody's snatched up and rent here is expensive."

"We need an extra room for Thea," Ginger pointed out. "She keeps saying she'd be fine sleeping in a closet, but I'm not comfortable with that. She needs her own room."

"Where is Thea?" asked Alex.

"She's gone back to the TARDIS to recharge and make a new list," the Doctor said. "She's giving us time for lunch."

"Lunch sounds good," said Alex, throwing on a black leather jacket. "There's a place around the corner that you'd like." Her cellphone rang and she looked at it. "It's mum." Ginger was blown away with how easily the word 'mum' had come out of her mouth.

"Tell her to join us too," the Doctor said.

Alex texted her back and waited a moment. "Actually, she's insisting we all come to her place."

...

They all made their way down to Bannerman Road and had a lovely time catching up with Sarah Jane.

Ginger found herself overwhelmed by family stuff as usual, so she made her way to the kitchen to get a moment alone. She discovered Alex had already beat her there. 

"You too, huh?" Alex smiled. "You never were the most sociable. Then again, neither was I."

"So how's it been, kid, what have you been up to?" Ginger asked her. 

"Oh this and that," Alex said, vaguely. "Doc didn't fill you in?"

"I insisted that he not talk about you behind your backs." The truth was that Ginger was afraid she'd miss them too much if she knew what they were up to. Alex sensed that, but didn't say anything.

"I took two semesters of Japanese," Alex said. "Still wasn't as fluent as I wanted to be, so Kira insisted I take a semester with her in Japan. You'd think that with all the supposed alien sightings in America that they'd be the alien capital of the world, but those of us who've lived in Japan know that they're just swimming in alien activity. It was a lot of fun. Doc dropped in from time to time to help out."

"So you're an alien hunter now?" Ginger asked.

She smiled. "Not so much. I've dabbled in lots of things. Haven't decided what I actually want to do. I actually got to be a roadie for bands on UK legs of their tours. That was fun. Kept thinking how much you would've loved it - after all, I was only doing everything you taught me."

"God, I would've _loved _to be a roadie!" Ginger exclaimed. "So who did you work for?"

"Just a few small bands, not really anyone you would know," Alex said, with a wicked glint in her eye. "You know, I'm still in touch with some of the bands I've worked with. I was just talking with my friend Shirley the other day - on the phone, of course, because she's over recording in Wisconsin again - and I was thinking how I'd love to introduce you."

It took a moment for the pieces of what she'd just said to sink in. She blinked. "No. No _way_. You worked with Shirley Manson?"

"Only on a few UK shows Garbage did a few years ago, but we keep in touch," Alex said.

Ginger punched her on the arm. "Why didn't you _lead _with that? That's so _cool_!"

"I knew that would get you," Alex chuckled. 

"You've done so well for yourself," Ginger said. "You've done so much that I always wished I could."

"Yeah, well, I haven't got it all figured out yet," Alex said.

...

Sarah Jane found the Doctor in the attic, staring out the window at nothing in particular.

"Doctor?" she asked gently. "Anything the matter?" He looked up at her and she smiled. "I should rephrase that. I know something is. Alex gave me some details, you know. Probably not everything she knows, but as near as she could get without betraying a confidence. It's Ginger, isn't it?"

The Doctor's eyes betrayed his heartbreak even before he reluctantly nodded and looked away. "Yeah. It got complicated."

"You really love her," Sarah Jane said. "And now you've got to let her go. I'm very sorry."

He suddenly realized who he was talking to. "You are, aren't you? Who else but you could understand what I'm going through."

She smiled at him sadly. "Oh Doctor...Doctor, of course I can't imagine what you're going through. It was the Trickster, yes, it was very close to what I went through. But it's not the same. Mine was human. Yours is the last remaining member of your species. I can't imagine what it must feel like to let her go when you've just found her."

He was trying very hard not to get emotional. "Her whole life was manipulated just to turn her into something that was wounded enough to like me. She had to go through so much and I hate that I'm adding to that pain."

"Doctor, you gave her all you could. If she's had as much pain as you say, you at least gave her a moment's peace. I doubt she'd give up her time with you for anything."

"I'm not as strong as you are, Sarah Jane," he said, taking a seat. "I'm not. I'm so old and I'm so tired. I'm so tired of losing everything. If she asked me to, I'm not confident I'd be able to say no. There's a part of me - a sick, broken, selfish part of me - that would leave the universe wide open and undefended for a chance to be with her."

She came to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. When she spoke it was firm, but gentle. There was a deep understanding between them. "Woman is not the downfall of man. You have choices and you make them. You talk about how hurt she is, but what about how hurt you are? That's the only reason you'd ever consider something that you know is bad for you. Don't cast her in the role of the woman leading the man to his doom, because that's not who she is. She's not Eve or Pandora or Helen of Troy. She's Ginger. And it's not fair to her to put the weight of a choice onto her. That just absolves you of responsibility. I know this is the part where I'm supposed to tell you to be strong and do the right thing, but I'm not going to tell you that. I'm here to tell you to grow up. Be adults. Talk about it. Resolve it. Then do the right thing, because I don't believe for a moment that you could be led astray for too long. That's not who you are. You'd come back and do the right thing eventually."

He looked up at her with a newfound appreciation. "Thank you, Sarah."

She squeezed his shoulder. "I'm just happy to be here for you."

...

Sarah Jane came downstairs to find Alex and Ginger in the kitchen.

"Alex, dear, you shouldn't leave Kira alone so long with Jack," Sarah Jane said. "The two of them become insufferable if you let them get into conversations about alien tech."

"Good point," she said. "I'll go make them talk about something more fun." She smiled at Ginger again and left the room.

"How are they doing?" Ginger asked.

"Alex and Kira? They're not still together, if that's what you're asking. It's all completely platonic now. They worked it out quite beautifully. Sometimes you need to change your relationship with someone in order to make it work." Sarah Jane looked closely at Ginger then. "The Doctor filled me in on what's happening. And I think it's very brave what you're doing."

"What I'm doing?" Ginger asked.

"Walking away. Most of us...We don't do that. At least from the ones I've met. He leaves companions, not the other way around. Sure he says he'll be right back...but then he just isn't. It's not that he lies, I think he really means to come back. He just wants to give you hope. I'm one of the lucky ones since he came back eventually. But that didn't make it hurt less when it happened. I always thought Martha Jones was brave for walking away when she did, but she didn't get nearly as close to him as you did. And you're choosing to walk away anyway."

"Wait, what was that about Martha?" Ginger asked.

"From what I can gather, she loved the Doctor very much, but he never reciprocated. She pined for ages before realizing she was better than that. It was the right call - a very brave one. But you're leaving for the opposite reason. He reciprocated, and you're walking away because you realized it was the right thing to do."

Ginger was startled. "How do you know he reciprocated?" She wondered what exactly he'd said because this was new information.

Sarah Jane privately wondered how this girl could be right in the middle of this and still not realize he reciprocated. "Everything about the way he is with you says it," she replied. "If I admit that a few years ago it actually made me a little sad to see him like that with someone else, will you promise not to think less of me?" 

Ginger regarded her carefully. "Is that why you didn't spend much time with us? The Doctor talks about you all the time. He's always spoken of you so highly. I know he asked you to come out with us."

"That and other things," Sarah Jane said. "I'm getting too old for that life. I can't keep up with him, not like you can. Not anymore. But we should've spent more time together. I realize now that you and I have a lot more in common than I initially realized."

"Like what?" Ginger asked.

"I'm so angry," Sarah Jane admitted. "Furious, actually, at what the Trickster put you through. Did the Doctor ever tell you that he did something very similar to me?"

Ginger was startled. "No. He didn't."

"Of course it wasn't manipulating me quite the same way, but it was for the same outcome. The Trickster is always trying to destroy me. The first time, he rewrote time completely just to stop me from meeting the Doctor. I understand that he was trying to destroy the Doctor using you, so it's the same principle. But the last time I saw the Trickster..." Her eyes darkened. "He put someone in my path who was perfectly suited to me. He wanted to lead me astray. Stop me from protecting the Earth. The Doctor showed up at my wedding to save me, of course he did, but it was so difficult. I had to let him go, this man I had been manipulated into loving completely. You see, he wasn't really supposed to exist. He was dead already, the Trickster had just plucked him from time. But we let each other go. Time had to move forward. I know it's not exactly the same thing-" 

"Actually, it sort of is," Ginger admitted. "Did anyone tell you that I'm not supposed to be alive either?"

"No," Sarah Jane replied. "They didn't."

"I think only the Doctor, Cupid, and the Corsair know," Ginger said. "But I was supposed to die as a baby. I don't fully understand what had to happen to allow me to live, but it's pretty much the same thing. I was supposed to die."

"Peter knew about it though," Sarah Jane said gently. "He made an agreement. He broke it in the end because it was the right thing to do, but as a baby you wouldn't have any say in it. You can't blame yourself for your purpose in this. You really didn't know. I'm just very very sorry that you had to experience this too."

"How do you know that it's real?" Ginger asked. "If it's manipulation, how do you know that what you feel isn't a trick?"

"Because why would he go to all the trouble just for an illusion? Illusions are strong, but they're not enough to end the world."

"Does it ever get easier?" Ginger asked. 

"Sometimes. But you've got to let it be easier and accept that some days are going to be harder than others. That's just life. Time keeps moving forward whether you let it or not, it's only our minds that stay locked behind."

...

"I'm actually part of a band of people who investigate alien sightings in Japan," Kira explained. "It's sort of their version of Torchwood, now that Torchwood no longer exists. I kind of stumbled into it on accident, but they needed someone with a degree in linguistics and social work on their team, whether they knew it at the time or not. It's funny, I left for Japan all those years ago not really knowing who I was or who I wanted to be. But I found my niche - something I'm good at."

"You became the protagonist in your own story," Alex smiled.

"So what brings you back to London?" Ginger asked.

"I leave Hiroshima a few times a year to liaise with the British government. Truthfully, I'm thinking of retiring. Coming back to England full-time."

"Why would you do that?" Ginger asked. "Your life is so interesting."

"Yeah, but I'd like to focus on the little guy," Kira said. "I want to help children specifically. There isn't a lot of time when you're working for a secret agency to dedicate to pro bono charity work."

"Yeah," Jack said. "Torchwood always did have a tendency to just consume your life, so I can relate."

"Hard not to get consumed, when you exist on the fringes of society-" Alex began.

"Did somebody say-" Ginger began.

"Fringe is a normal word, Ginger," the Doctor reminded her. "Sorry." He turned to the others. "Don't say that word in front of her. She'll want to marathon."

Ginger leaned over towards him and very audibly whispered: "Raekahn twa flesha hael un nerd opella, Doc?"

He cringed slightly, but actually looked a bit proud. "Ebie twi twa migna, layla." 

Alex looked between the two of them for a moment. "Alright, what was that? Speaking Elvish now?"

The Doctor came back to himself. "No, actually, I've been teaching her some Gallifreyan."

"You know how in movies they use Latin as a code language since it's dead?" Ginger asked. "I figured we could use Gallifreyan as the ultimate dead language." She glanced at the Doctor. "Too soon?"

"No, no, it's alright," he smiled. "I knew what you meant." He turned back to Alex. "She's really quite gifted with languages."

"We always knew that," Alex replied. "But why do I sense there's a 'but' coming?"

"Well," the Doctor said, running his fingers absently through his hair. "Gallifreyan is a bit like...like Cantonese, actually. It relies on tones. Ginger's native language is English, so she has trouble distinguishing the tones."

"Which means what?" Jack asked.

"Actually, I studied linguistics," Kira said. "So I think I'm following. This actually sort of applied when I was going for my fluency in Japanese. There's this thing where the way your native language treats 'r's and 'l's makes it harder or easier to pronounce it in another one. Like in Japanese, there are certain words where when you translate them phonetically to the English alphabet they are spelled with 'r's when they are pronounced more like 'l's even though the sound isn't quite the same as either of them because of the tongue's position in the mouth. But I was tuned to be able to hear that more easily because my parents are Japanese. When I tried to learn Mandarin or Cantonese, I had a _much _harder time because they have words that, to the English speaker, will sound exactly the same but mean wildly different things. The difference is in the tones."

"Exactly," the Doctor said. "Gallifreyan is like that. So Ginger was _trying _to say 'How dare you call me a nerd in front of everyone, Doc' - props to her for remembering that 'nerd' isn't a word we _have _in Gallifreyan-"

"Because they're all a bunch of nerds," Alex said, under her breath.

"But what she _actually _said was: 'How dare you finger me, a nerd, in front of everyone'."

"You sure that's not what she meant?" Jack teased.

"It's that vowel sound," Ginger despaired. "Gets me every time!"

"You're doing very well," the Doctor assured her.

"What was Torchwood anyway?" Ginger asked, changing the subject completely. "I never really understood, but you guys are always talking about it. Sort of like secret agent stuff, right? For the government? I mean what did you _do_?"

"Torchwood was just...Torchwood," Jack said. "It's hard to explain. We studied aliens. We were our own jurisdiction. Outside the government, beyond the police. Tracking down alien life on Earth, arming the human race against the future. The 21st century is when everything changes. And you've gotta be ready."

"So it was a secret taskforce with no real government oversight?" Ginger asked.

"Essentially," said Jack.

"Sounds a _bit _fascist-y to me," Ginger said, sipping her tea.

"She doesn't like cops," the Doctor said.

"Right," Jack grinned. "I'd almost forgotten."

"Funny that she has a problem with Torchwood having no oversight," the Doctor teased. "But wants LESS government oversight over the X-Files and Fringe Division."

"Hey, they were doing good work!" Ginger laughed. "The government was trying to shut them down, but they were still a part of the government!"

"If you're thinking about staying, you can always keep bunking with me, Kira," Alex said. "Rent's not cheap in Soho."

"I'll take that under consideration," Kira replied.

"We should watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend soon," Ginger said. "Not today, I'm not really in the mood, but we left off ages ago and I never finished it."

"That's a good idea," Jack said. "A good idea, but sort of out of nowhere. Why are you thinking about it?"

"I was just thinking about how you used to tease me for being like Rebecca," said Ginger. "But like, I think she has Borderline Personality Disorder. She has all the big major symptoms, but don't worry...I'm not expecting them to address it. They'll probably just act like it's quirky or something instead of admitting it's a problem."

Jack didn't know what to say to this. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Thea just diagnosed me with BPD as well as autism. Figure that's why I relate to Rebecca since she's a character who definitely has both."

Jack could say something but decided not to. "So who are you rooting for at this point? Who should she end up with?"

"Like shipping?" she asked. "I don't know, man, chick has serious identity issues. The best ending for her at this point would be if she didn't end up with anybody and just found her real passion in life instead of obsessing over a man. But I've got fallbacks. She could end up with Valencia - to show that she and Rebecca don't need Josh - or Greg - I'm a sucker for the dynamic - and I'd be happy. Not as happy, but I'd be willing to..." She smiled, and sang out a reference to one of the songs they'd just heard. "Settle for it."

Jack laughed. "Yeah. You're really going to like this show."

The Doctor returned to the kitchen to pour another cup of tea, but instead of returning to the room afterwards he leaned against the kitchen table and looked back into the room. He watched Ginger. She was so clearly out of her element in these social situations and she held herself with that same awkward guardedness that she normally did. She was definitely sad and anxious, but she was also clearly glad to see Jack and Alex. He watched her laugh at one of Jack's jokes without really looking directly at him. Her laughs were genuine, but they cut off quickly as if she was afraid of giving too much away.

He didn't notice the music start. He also didn't notice that he began singing.

_"When I would play my song_  
_You used to sing along._  
_I always seem to forget_  
_How fragile are the very strong._  
_I'm sorry I can't steal you_  
_I'm sorry I can't stay_  
_So I put band-aids on your knees_  
_And watch you fly away_  
  
_I'm sending you away tonight_  
_I'll put you on a bird's strong wing_  
_I'm saving you the best way I know how_  
_I hope again one day to hear you sing..."_

He was a knock at the door, startling him from these thoughts. He only noticed the music because of its sudden absence. He frowned. _That was weird. _Another knock came at the door so he answered it.

"Cupid," the Doctor said. "And Thea." He stood aside to let them come in.

Ginger stood up. "What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?" She knew if they were both barging in like this that there had to be a problem.

"Thea picked up an encoded transmission," Cupid explained. "We don't have much time. We have to find you a place to stay _now_, because if the Shadow Proclamation's Interdimensional Unit finds you still with the Doctor, there's gonna be hell to pay."

"I'm sorry, _what_?"

Thea smiled in what she thought was a calming way. "Now, nobody panic, we can all look at this rationally. There's a slight problem which is that somehow the Shadow Proclamation knows you two are in this general area and they're coming to incarcerate Ginger."

"Wait the Shadow Proclamation is, like, intergalactic law, right?" asked Alex.

"That's right," said Sarah Jane. 

"So what would they want with Ginger?" asked Alex. "What has she done?"

"It's not what she's done, it's what she could do," said Cupid. "The Interdimensional Unit gets next to no work these days because the walls between realities are sealed, but there's a long-standing order that if a Ginger is caught with a Doctor, they should immediately break that up."

"What business is it of theirs?" asks Ginger.

"Gingers have been the instigators in the destruction of many universes," Cupid explained. "You've met the Queen, you know what you're capable of. We need to prove to them that you're no threat. The only way to do that is to immediately find you a place to stay."

"If it's that urgent, you can stay here," offered Sarah Jane. "Lots of empty rooms here without the kids around."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Ginger said.

"Ginger," Cupid urged. "It could be a good idea to take the offer. We don't have an awful lot of time."

"And I'm not living in the suburbs," Ginger said, crossing her arms. "No offense, but I'd wither and die in a place like this. If that's what you want..."

"Ginger, you're falling back on bad habits," Thea warned her. "There's no need to result to guilt tripping and manipulation."

"Sorry," Ginger said. "I didn't mean it. But I'm still not living here."

"Then there's no time to waste!" said Alex. "We've gotta find you a place to live!"

"Thanks for having us over, Sarah Jane," said Kira. "The tea was lovely."

"We can get her far away, right?" the Doctor asked. "They know she's here, so if we get her out of here then it won't be a problem?"

"They'll catch up," said Cupid. "So it doesn't matter how far away we get her, we just need to get her somewhere fast."

...

Kira stood next to Thea in the TARDIS. 

"So," she said. "_You're _Thea."

Thea smiled. "Yes. I'm Thea."

"You're, like, _way _hotter than I expected."

"I apologize for that," Thea replied. "I can adjust my temperature to a more comfortable range-"

The Doctor happened to overhear this and looked up. "Thea." She looked at him and he shook his head.

...

They looked at place after place, becoming increasingly frustrated with her inability to find a place she liked.

"Ginger, we need to get you safe," the Doctor pleaded with her. "We just need to pick somewhere, you don't have to stay there forever."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child," Ginger snapped. "I know when things feel right and this just doesn't!"

Alex leaned over to mutter to Cupid. "All this time, and they're both still so blocked?"

"Remarkable, isn't it?" Cupid muttered back. "I see Thea's point about how they need to just get on with it."

"What are you two whispering about over there?" Ginger snapped at them. "Since when are you two so chummy?"

"Cupid's been helping me," Alex said. "He helped me learn to understand my empathic abilities."

"Oh," Ginger said. "Well. That's nice."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "There's no need to get jealous, Ginger."

"What?" she snapped, crossing her arms. "I'm not jealous, I don't get jealous. Don't be ridiculous."

Cupid smiled to himself. "We need to get on with it," he gently reminded them. "We have little time."

"Fine," Ginger said.

The Doctor pulled Ginger aside before they could enter the TARDIS. "Ginger, I know this is difficult for you, but we have to do this. I don't want to drop you somewhere you hate, but you need to go somewhere."

"You don't have to be so eager to get rid of me," she replied bitterly. 

"I'm not," he assured her. "In fact, I don't want you to go at all. But you have to. I have to know that you're safe. I'm going away, but I'm not leaving you. Not really."

Neither of them noticed the music start, but suddenly he was singing again.

_"You know we're not so far away_  
_Get on a boat, get on a train..."_

He caressed her face, smoothing her hair away from it so that he could be sure she was seeing him and taking in what he was saying.

_"And if you ever think you're drowning_  
_I'll try to slow the rain_  
_In two years or so_  
_Drop me a line_  
_Write me a letter_  
_I hope to find you're doing better, better than today, better everyday_  
  
_I'm sending you away tonight_  
_I'll put you on a bird's strong wing_  
_I'm saving you the best way I know how_  
_I hope again one day to hear you sing_  
_I'm saving you the only way that I know how_  
_I hope again one day to hear you sing_  
_I hope again one day to see you bring your smile back around again."_

He spoke to her gently. "I know it'll be difficult for you, maybe even lonely-"

"Lonely?" she scoffed, blinking back tears. "I don't do lonely." She started singing. "_When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend I get a coffee and the paper; have my own conversations with the sidewalk and the pigeons and my window reflection..."_ She looked away from him.

"Sounds like you'll be having some riveting conversations," he tried for a teasing tone, but that all fell apart when he began singing.

_"And I know you have a heavy heart; I can feel it when we kiss..."_ He kissed her briefly, but she melted into it. _"So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift..."_ His hands slid down from her face to hold her by the shoulders. _"...It."_

They sang together as they simultaneously turned away from each other. _"But me I'm not a gamble you can count on me to split. The love I sell you in the evening, by the morning won't exist."_

"Doctor..." she said, turning around to face him and prompting him to do the same. "I just...I need you around. I can't be alone."

"You won't be alone," he assured her. "And you're strong, so very strong. You don't need me around."

"Just stay," she whispered. "Or let me stay. I can't leave you."

A different song started and he sang to her again.

_"Baby you've got the sort of eyes that tell me tales_  
_That your sort of mouth just will not say, the truth impales_  
_That you don't need me._"

They both sang together. _"But you won't leave me..."_

She sang: _"My love's too big for you, my love."_

He repeated the line. _"My love's too big for you, my love."_ He leaned his forehead against hers, feeling the gravity between them and trying not to give in to it. _"And if I was stronger then I would tell you no."_

She blinked back tears. _"And if I was stronger then I would leave this show."_

He pulled away and turned his back to her. _"And if I was stronger then I would up and go, but here I am..."_ He turned to face her and she pressed her back to the wall as he moved toward her. He hovered near her, close enough to touch her, one hand on the wall next to her.

They sang together, eyes interlocking. _"And here we go again..."_

The music faded and this time they both noticed it.

"Doctor?" she whispered. "Did we just...?"

"So you heard that too?" he whispered.

"What the _fuck_?" 

"The same thing happened to me earlier back at Sarah Jane's," said the Doctor. "I was just thinking about...things. And then I was singing. But there was no one around to hear it."

"I started singing like this twice earlier," she admitted. "First thing when I woke up and then again when we were having breakfast."

"During breakfast?" he asked. "While I was in the room?"

"Yeah, you didn't seem to be able to hear. What the hell, Doc, are we in a musical?"

There was a loud click. "Doctor," said a familiar voice. "Step away from the girl if you know what's good for you. Slowly. Neither of you make so much as a move toward each other, got that?"

Ginger and the Doctor slowly looked over to the source of the voice to find their worst fears confirmed. It was another Ginger, but this one was in a black hoodie and had short unkempt hair. The most noticeable difference between her and Ginger was the absence of glasses.

The newcomer brandished her large laser gun at them. "Quick as you can, please, move away. This is for your own safety."

Ginger pushed him away and looked at the Ginger with eyes filled with anger. The other Ginger immediately took a step back and held the weapon like a lifeline.

"I told you if I ever saw you again, I'd kill you," Ginger snapped.

"And unfortunately I can't kill you," the other Ginger said. "I've been sent to collect you. You are hereby ordered-"

"Nobody orders me around," Ginger replied. "Not looking so good right now, are you? Bit scraggly. What happened to your extensions and your makeup?"

"What?" the other Ginger asked.

"Wait!" came a voice from behind them.

"Cora," the other Ginger said, her voice completely devoid of emotion. "About time you joined us. Might need your help taking this one into custody."

"It's not her!" the Corsair shouted. "That's what I came to tell you, you tracked the wrong girl! You're on the wrong trail!"

"What do you mean I'm on the wrong trail?" she asked. "I worked hard on this confirmation-"

"It's not her!" the Corsair said. "It's the one from here! She's about 300 years too young to be the Ginger you're looking for. Look, I swear, alright? You know I'm the last person to play Ginger's advocate, but this one is different. She's leaving. Go on." She motioned at Ginger. "Tell her."

"Tell her what?" Ginger asked. "Someone tell me what the fuck is happening here?"

The Corsair rolled her eyes before coming forward to place herself between the gun and Ginger. "I have confirmation myself," she said. "I've got it from Cupid himself. They're apartment hunting. She's leaving. He's facing his destiny."

"She won't believe it from me," Cupid said, prompting the group to realize he and Alex were standing in the doorway of the TARDIS. "Sorry, we heard shouting and wondered if you need help." He walked toward them. "Put down the gun, sweetheart. You don't need it here."

"He's right," the new Ginger said. "I won't believe him. He's a sentimental old fool. He puts more faith in Gingers than he should."

"I'm putting my faith in this one," said the Corsair. "_I _am. So let's put the gun down, R.H."

"It won't do any good," R.H. replied. "I picked up the same transmissions you undoubtedly did. The Judoon can't be far behind. I was hoping to intercept before then."

"Look, take her voice print," said the Corsair. "If it matches the Queen, you can take her back. If it doesn't, why don't you leave me to deal with it?"

"Wait, the Queen?" Ginger asked. "I thought..."

R.H. made a face. "God, that's so insulting. You thought I was her? I'm _looking _for her." She turned her attention back to the Corsair. "But that's a good point, how do _you _know I'm who you think I am? You didn't get _my _voice print!"

"I know you," the Corsair said simply. "Convenient, yes, that R.H. sings for no one these days, but I know your eyes." She took a small device out of her pocket. "Here. Let me check her for a voice print, alright? If you're satisfied with the answer-"

Before she could finish the sentence, a platoon of Judoon surrounded them, weapons drawn.

The Doctor glanced at Alex, who immediately understood and closed the TARDIS doors to seal her in there with Thea. She didn't like it, but she knew if the Doctor got taken to a secondary location then somebody on the outside would need to be available to rescue, and she was the only one who could fly the TARDIS.

The lead Judoon commander stepped forward. "Yo plo tro sho blo ro flo sho tro no do flo ro sho blo ro ro flo so to sho blo no do sho wo kro lo lo sho so tro bo mo kro to sho to plo sho qwo tro flo so to kro plo no kro no go sho bla sho sho."

R.H. answered angrily. "No plo to sho mo flo sho yo plo tro sho kro do kro plo to sho blo no do sho so ho flo sho kro so sho tro no do flo ro sho mo yo sho co tro so to plo do yo!"

He held up a device that looked very like the one the Corsair was holding. "Vo plo kro co flo sho po ro kro no to sho kro do flo no to kro fo kro co blo to kro plo no sho po lo flo blo so flo."

"Kro sho do plo sho no plo to sho so kro no go sho blo no yo mo plo ro flo!"

"Yo plo tro sho wo kro lo lo sho no plo to sho po ro plo vo kro do flo sho kro do flo no to kro fo kro co blo to kro plo no sho blo no do sho blo ro flo sho ro flo so kro so to kro no go sho blo sho do kro ro flo co to sho plo ro do flo ro?"

She crossed her arms. "Yo plo tro sho blo ro flo sho do blo mo no sho ro kro go ho to!"

Ginger leaned over to whisper to the Doctor. "It's weird that I'm understanding every word they're saying, isn't it? Because the TARDIS isn't converting this into English and I swear that the scary rhino guy is asking the other Ginger for a voice print - whatever that is - and she's refusing to give it to him."

"You're right," the Doctor said. "It _is _weird that you understand that."

The Judoon noticed the other Ginger and continued speaking his language, though Ginger instantly understood.

"Vo plo kro co flo sho po ro kro no to sho kro do flo no to kro fo kro co blo to kro plo no sho po lo flo blo so flo!" _Voice print identification please._

She opened her mouth but what came out surprised her. "Flo vo flo no sho kro fo sho kro sho kno no flo wo sho wo ho blo to sho to ho blo to sho wo blo so sho kro sho wo plo tro lo do no cho to sho go kro vo flo sho kro to sho to plo sho yo plo tro!" Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd just said and she glanced at the Doctor. He was equally shocked. "Oh. That's new. How did I do that?"

"I have no idea," he replied, bewildered by this talent that he had on some level suspected she had.

She turned back to the Judoon. "What I mean to say is that I don't know what a voice print is and I wouldn't give it to you fascists even if I did. Get it through your heads. I didn't _do _anything."

The Judoon replied swiftly. "Yo plo tro sho wo kro lo lo sho co plo mo flo sho wo kro to ho sho tro so sho fo plo ro sho qwo tro flo so to kro plo no kro no go."

She drew herself up to her full height. "I will _not_! I'm not going anywhere with you or answering any questions. I'm kind of _busy _at the moment, if you hadn't noticed! I'm _apartment hunting_!"

"Jo tro so to sho to plo sho bo flo sho co lo flo blo ro sho yo plo tro cho ro flo sho ro flo so kro so to kro no go sho blo ro ro flo so to?"

"You're damn right I'm resisting arrest, I've never met an arrest I didn't resist!" Ginger replied defiantly. "Call it a hobby."

The Judoon commander motioned at his platoon. A few of the officers grabbed the Gingers, placing wrist cuffs over them.

"Oi!" R.H. shouted. "I already told you, I'm not who you think I am! I'm on _your _side!"

"You're not taking them anywhere!" the Doctor shouted.

"Ro flo so to ro blo kro no sho to ho flo mo sho blo lo lo!" shouted the Judoon commander. _Restrain them all._

"Oi!" Ginger shouted, struggling. "You can't do this! We didn't _do _anything!"

"Flo xo co flo po to sho ro flo so kro so to sho blo ro ro flo so to sho blo no do sho ro flo fo tro so flo sho to plo sho po ro flo so flo no to sho kro do flo no to kro fo kro co blo to kro plo no?" _Except resist arrest and refuse to provide identification?_

"Since when is that a crime?"

There was a sound like a large weapon firing up and they turned to see that Thea had reemerged from the TARDIS. At first glance, one might think she was carrying a very large gun. But she wasn't. What had actually happened was that her arm had converted into this large weapon.

She smiled brightly. "Sensors indicate that my patients have elevated heartbeats and stress levels. This cannot be tolerated. Kindly unhand them."

Alex and Kira rushed out of the TARDIS. "Thea, come back in - woah." She noticed the large laser gun. "Since when did you go all Terminator?"

"Part of my function is to protect," Thea said.

Kira looked the android up and down. "Gotta admit, it's kinda doing it for me."

"Me too," said Ginger.

"Called it," said Jack.

"Now," Thea said, turning her attention back to the Judoon. "Unhand my patients or I shall have to get violent."

Thea was programmed for all types of combat, but had never been in a combat situation before. As such, she was not exactly prepared for the Judoon to throw a charge pack onto her, which had enough of a current passing through it that it fried her circuitry and sent her to the ground.

"Thea!" Alex shouted. 

"Leave her," the Doctor said to her. "There's nothing you can do for her." He spoke to the Judoon then. "We'll go with you. We'll cooperate."

...

The Judoon managed to get the group back to their ship and stuck them in a holding cell.

"You can't keep us in here!" Ginger screamed, flinging herself against the door. "We have rights, you know! I'm not sure what they are under intergalactic law, but we have them!"

R.H. kicked a wall, evidently as frustrated as Ginger was. "Fuck!"

"Calm down, R.H," said the Corsair. "Let's not lose our temper."

"It's not _our _temper, it's _my _temper," R.H. said, pulling off her hood and running her fingers through her tangled hair as she tried to think. "And I haven't lost it, I've just misplaced it. I'll find it any second now if I can just remember where I had it last."

"Yeah, retrace 600 years of life, that'll really help you."

"Shut up," she snapped. She sank to the floor and glared into the distance. "Of course this is my life. Stuck in a cell with a Ginger. Couldn't possibly stoop any lower."

"Why do you say 'stuck with a Ginger' like you're not one?" Ginger demanded. 

"Because I'm not!" Her anger fizzled out and suddenly she looked very old. "Not anymore."

"What are they going to do with us?" asked Kira. 

"Hold us for a while," R.H. said. "Question us separately, I imagine."

"Torture us?" asked Ginger, rubbing the magnetic wrist cuffs they'd put on her.

"Not unless they can justify it legally," said the Corsair. "Cupid lobbied successfully to get the Shadow Proclamation to outlaw torture by magnetism as inhumane."

Ginger looked up at him. "You lobbied for something?"

"I used to be very political in my youth," Cupid admitted.

"So what's the point of them then?" asked Ginger. "Why put these on us if they can't use them?"

"Oh they can still use them," Cupid said. "It's a matter of proving self-defense."

"They're a police force," Ginger grumbled. "It's more like we'd have to prove we weren't provoking them."

"I am very sorry," Cupid said, glancing from one Ginger to the other. "You should never have been treated so brutally-"

"Save it," R.H. snapped. "I'm so tired of your worthless apologies. I need to get out of here."

Alex hadn't said a thing through any of this. She'd just sat on the floor and stared into space. But now she spoke. "What about Thea? We just _left _her there."

The Doctor softened when he saw how upset she was. He crouched in front of her. "She's a machine, Alex. It didn't hurt her a bit."

"But she's still a person. She tried to protect us and we _left _her in the _street."_

They all heard the music start as Alex got to her feet and began to pace, but they didn't notice until she started singing.

_"Where has my heart gone?_  
_An uneven trade for the real world_  
_I want to go back to_  
_Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all..."_

Alex realized she was singing and the music fizzled away with the ebb of her intense emotions. "Hold on...What was that?" She noticed them all staring at her. "Did I just...Did you hear that?"

"You were singing," the Doctor said. "And everyone could hear the background music?" Everyone but R.H. nodded. "Ginger and I experienced the same thing earlier."

"What is it?" Alex asked nervously.

"Are we on a musical planet?" asked Jack excitedly.

"It happened when we were on Earth too," the Doctor said. "It has to be something else."

R.H. groaned. "I don't believe this. It's the same every goddamn time. You're high."

"High?" Alex said. "I don't feel high."

"Have you ever been high?" asked Jack.

"Well...No," she admitted. "But I think I'd know if I was high."

A few Judoon guards entered at that moment. One of them spoke in English.

"We take her first." He pointed at Ginger.

"I won't say a goddamn thing," Ginger snapped. "You can't make me."

They grabbed her and forced her from the room. The Doctor tried to help her, but was easily beaten back.

"It's no use, Doctor," the Corsair said. "You've made this bed. Time to lie in it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"You were warned, weren't you, that something would happen if she didn't leave? Well time for something to happen."

...

Ginger was being questioned in a separate interrogation room.

"You are a Ginger, is that correct?" the Judoon asked her.

"Debatable," said Ginger. "My coloring isn't right."

The Judoon did not recognize her attempts at wit. "You are a Ginger, is that correct?"

"Yes," she sighed. "I'm Ginger. The one from this universe."

It held a device in front of her face. "We require voice print identification."

"Is 'go to hell' sufficient?" she asked.

"It is not," replied the judoon. "Provide your voice print identification."

And she couldn't help it, before she could stop herself she was singing again. Whatever this thing was that was causing them to sing seemed to be activated by strong emotion.

_"When they come to hang you_  
_Stand straight_  
_Brace your neck_  
_Be strong, daughter_  
_When they come to hang you_  
_And you think you lost control_  
_Don't take your soul."_

The Judoon looked down at his device as it lit up green. 

"Negative match," the device said in a tinny voice. "Does not match with existing data files. Would you like to save?"

The Judoon spoke to her. "I apologize. You were brought in in error."

"You're damn right," Ginger spat.

"Not entirely in error," the Judoon said. "The one called Corsair continued to insist your innocence, that you are in the process of leaving the Doctor. Is this true?"

"Is that your business?"

"We cannot release you until we make sure that you will not continue to interfere with fixed events in history. What would you like to be called in the database?"

"Ideally I'd appreciate not being in a database."

"It's necessary to log all Gingers," the Judoon said. "So what would you like to be called?"

...

Ginger wasn't able to convince the Judoon of her innocence, so was placed roughly back into the cell. The Doctor instantly came to her side to check her for injuries. The Judoon then took R.H. for questioning.

"Well I know what a voice print is now," Ginger said. "Accidentally started singing and that played right into it."

"You can distinguish a Ginger by her song," Cupid said. "Technically since they're genetically identical, they'd have the same voice just with varying degrees of practice. But you can't fake a voice print, because of two key factors: The tell-tale pitch of the universe they're tuned to and the specific depth of the emotional variance. It's always slightly different between Gingers. There's a database that those in the know have access to so they can avoid any, eh..."

"Clone Swaps?" offered Ginger.

"Yes, exactly," Cupid smiled. 

"I wasn't in the database," Ginger said. 

"You're the last Ginger," Cupid said. "As the youngest, you'd of course be the last to be logged."

"So they know you're not the Queen now?" asked Alex. "Why won't they release us?"

"They're not confident that releasing me is good for society," Ginger grumbled. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure I disagree. But I don't like authority, so fuck 'em."

...

The cell was large. Apparently the Judoon saw the benefit in giving people in their custody a lot of room to walk around in. 

The Doctor and Ginger sat off in one corner, huddled together and talking in hushed tones. He brushed her hair away from her face, pretending to check for injuries.

"You know you're really transparent when you do that," she smiled.

"What's that?"

"Finding reasons to touch me," she said. "Been noticing it a lot lately. We don't do what we used to do, but now we behave like sexually repressed Victorians. A casual brush of the hands, a soothing touch on the arm, a squeeze on the shoulder..." She looked at him. "I'm really gonna miss you, you know that?"

He reminded himself to keep breathing. "Why's that?"

"I dunno," she said. "Probably because I'm stupid."

_"It takes one to know one, kid, I think you've got it bad,"_ he sang.

"I don't like that that's the song that keeps coming from us," Ginger said. "It feels like an ending."

"What were those Ingrid Michaelson songs if not an ending?"

"A different kind of ending," she shrugged. "Because this one keeps saying:_ But what's so easy in the evening, by the morning is such a drag. _I don't want it to be a drag."

"It's not."

She opened her mouth to sing something else, but was interrupted by the Corsair.

"You two need to be sitting farther apart," she said.

They sprang apart instantly, remembering that they weren't alone.

"What, we need to leave room for Jesus now, Cora?" asked Ginger.

"Jesus has nothing to do with it," said the Corsair. "I just think if we're trying to convince the Judoon that it's safe to let you out, you might wanna try not making eyes at each other. And for god's sake, stop singing. You feel an urge coming on, quell it as soon as possible."

"I don't see how that's possible," Ginger said. "It hard to resist when it just keeps happening." She got to her feet. "I think you're just jealous because you probably can't sing."

"I can sing, I just don't."

"Prove it then," Ginger said. She began to goad her through song.

_"There is this thing keeping everyone's lungs and lips locked_  
_It is called fear and it's seeing a great renaissance_  
_After the show you can not sing wherever you want_  
_But for now let's just pretend we're all gonna get bombed_  
_So sing-"_

"Oh for fuck's sake," the Corsair said, before singing a line herself. _"Life is no cabaret."_

_"We're inviting you anyway,"_ Ginger sang back. "_You motherfuckers you sing something-"_

"Stop, stop, stop!" the Corsair waved her arms in front of her face. "God, this is why I hate being around Gingers. You never shut up." The music changed, and suddenly the Corsair was singing.

_"Please, please, please  
No more melodies  
They lack impact, they're petty  
They've been made up already  
Please please please  
No more maladies  
I'm so tired of crying  
You'd think I was a siren  
But me and everybody's on the sad, same team  
And you can hear our sad brains screaming:  
Give us something familiar  
Something similar  
To what we know already  
That will keep us steady  
Steady,  
Steady going nowhere."_

"Fine, jeez, I'm sorry-" Ginger began.

But the Corsair just launched into the second verse.

_"Please please please_  
_No apologies_  
_At best they buy you time_  
_Till you next step out of line_  
_Please please please_  
_No more remedies_  
_My method is uncertain_  
_It's mess, but it's working_

_And maybe if you'd wanna try it out_  
_You won't like it so when you're crying out..."_

And then they all sang together.

_"Give us something familiar  
Something similar  
To what we know already  
That will keep us steady..."_

_"Steady,"_ Kira sang.

_"Steady,"_ Alex echoed.

_"Steady,"_ Jack echoed.

_"Steady going nowhere," _they all sang together as the song faded out.

The Corsair crossed her arms and went to sit sullenly in a corner by herself.

Cupid turned to the Doctor. "Go talk to her, would you?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said. "Yeah, I'll do that." He approached her cautiously. "Hey, Cora."

"Are we back on speaking terms?" the Corsair asked sarcastically. "Saying 'hey, Cora' like we're still friends."

"We're still friends, of course we're still friends," the Doctor said, taking a seat beside her. "I'm sorry about what I said to you. I was angry and hurt and you were the only person nearby that I could blame. I wasn't fair to you and I'm sorry."

"And I'll admit that maybe I wasn't fair to your Ginger," the Corsair said. "I've just seen every possible outcome for these events and it's _never _ended like this. You really can't blame me."

"I don't," he said. "It isn't your fault. I appreciate you trying to help Ginger now, even if you still don't like her."

"Believe it or not," the Corsair said. "There are very few timelines where I've actually _wanted _her dead. I want you to be happy, and I know that in the beginning you always are. But I know how it ends. Cupid is the sentimental one, thinking that even a little happiness is better than none at all. But it's too much of a risk."

Right at that moment, a pretty blonde android teleported onto the ship.

"Apologies for the delay," Thea smiled. "My systems just came back online."

"Thea!" Alex shouted, getting to her feet. "How did you find us?"

"I'm programmed to find my programmer for repairs," Thea said. 

"I knew if we left her then she'd find us when she rebooted," the Doctor said. 

Alex punched him on the arm. "You should've told me! I thought she was dead!"

"Do you have enough power to get us back?" the Doctor asked her. 

"I need a few minutes to recharge," Thea said. "My critical systems are still running at lower capacity."

"We can't leave right now anyway," Alex said. 

"Why's that?" asked Kira.

"We have to rescue the other Ginger," Alex insisted. "Come on, don't look at me like that. It's not like she's the Queen, I've got a totally different vibe off this one. I feel...bad for her. I don't know. We shouldn't leave her. She needs help."

Ginger deliberated. "Ugh, alright," she sighed. "But if this gets us into deeper trouble, it's on your head. I'm not generally in the habit of helping myself." She turned to Thea. "Can you get these cuffs off us?"

She looked at them without touching. "They're rigged with an electrical charge if I try, which will only knock me out. We'll have to wait until we're back on the TARDIS."

...

Thea had just enough power to teleport the group out into a nearby corridor so they could avoid the guards. 

"It'll be at least three minutes and twenty-eight seconds before I can teleport again," Thea said. "So be careful. I don't wish to initiate violence." 

"Ginger, do you remember how to get to the interrogation room?" Alex asked.

"I should," she nodded. "Let's go."

They set off after Ginger. Thea turned to the Doctor. "I'm sorry," she said, slightly less brightly than usual.

"Sorry?" the Doctor asked. At first he was fascinated. "Are you really? I mean, sorry for what?"

"I am," she replied. "And for failing you."

"Failing me?" He was stunned by this reply. "You didn't fail me."

"I didn't complete my function," she said. 

"You did exactly what I needed you to do, Thea," the Doctor assured her.

"I know I did the right thing when the Judoon showed up," Thea said. "I didn't do it well, but I tried and that's the important thing. But I was unsure how to handle Ginger-on-Ginger violence. I didn't know my protocol."

The Doctor realized this was an oversight and thought it over. "Thea, you did well. Just for the future...Your protocol remains unchanged."

Thea nodded. "Noted."

...

They found the interrogation room and huddled outside. R.H. didn't even bother to look up at her interrogator, it was as if nothing in the world mattered to her.

"Voice print identification," the Judoon said. "We require voice print identification."

"It's not that I don't understand," R.H. said. "It's that I refuse to comply."

"Why?" the Judoon demanded.

"Because I don't sing for anyone," R.H. said. "Not anymore. Not in a very very long time."

An alarm sounded, which they figured meant they knew the Judoon had discovered they were missing. Thea transformed her arm back into a laser gun and pointed it at the Judoon. "Unhand the girl," she said. "She's coming with us."

R.H. was surprised. "What are you doing?"

"Busting you out," Ginger said. 

"Why?"

"Because Alex insisted we come back for you. Believe me, you weren't our first choice."

...

"That may not have been the best course of action," the Corsair said once they were back in the TARDIS. "I mean, I'll vouch for you, R.H, but it would just be easier to give up your voice print."

"Give me something to sing about, then maybe," said R.H. The Doctor got her wrist cuff off. "Well thanks, I'll be going then."

"Wait!" Ginger said, following her to the hallway. "Wait, I just..."

"Listen," R.H. said. "I'm sort of on a timetable here, I've gotta get going. So if you can move this along?"

"What did you mean before? When you said we were high?"

"I thought you might be doping on Algoni toxin," said the Red Herring. "But the only symptom you have is hearing music. So maybe I was wrong. You shouldn't mess with that stuff. Most of us end up addicted to it one way or another. But that's not really what you wanted to know, is it?"

"I just...I want to understand," she admitted.

"Yeah," R.H. said. "I know. Gingers always do."

"But you're not a Ginger?"

"Not anymore."

"How can you just not be a Ginger?"

"Think about it for a minute," R.H. said. "Why are you Ginger?"

"Well," she said. "It's a funny joke."

"No, I mean _why_."

"Because...because of him, I guess. The Doctor. I never even considered being Ginger til I met him." She smiled. "And he was sweet and gentle. And he liked me. Which made me like me, just a little bit. I liked being Ginger." Her smile faded as she realized. "You don't sing anymore. R.H...What happened to your Doctor?"

R.H. nodded. "You're getting it now. I'm not a Ginger for the same reason that you are one. The one thing that made me one of you is long gone now. You said you've met the Queen, so take a lesson from the both of us and let your Doctor go."

This shook her to the core. "Do you mind me asking what R.H. stands for?"

"It's a reminder of what we are. I'll never let myself forget."

"What are we?"

"R.H. is short for Red Herring," she replied. "Because that's what we are at the end of the day, when everything's said and done. We're really the most spectacular red herrings. I just own up to it. Because now that the Doctor's gone, that's all I am." She looked at her with eyes full of pity. "Good luck." 

...

Ginger returned to the sick bay.

"That should do it," the Doctor said as he removed the Corsair's wrist cuffs. He caught sight of Ginger and frowned. "Ginger? What's wrong?" He came to her side at once. "You're shaking and white as a sheet. Here, sit down..."

She did as he asked but looked at the Corsair. "R.H," she said. "You know her?"

"Yeah," the Corsair replied.

"So her Doctor's dead, right? She doesn't sing anymore and she's not a Ginger anymore. Hers is gone."

The Corsair nodded. "Been gone, oh, about 300 years now, by my estimation. Only she knows for sure how long. She never got over it."

"Never will," Ginger said. "How could she move on after losing..." She caught the Doctor's eye and quickly looked away. "We've gotta move on, don't we? Make it quick. Because I couldn't stand to see that happen..."

"My advice is to get packing," the Corsair said. "Make it quick." She started to leave.

"Where are you going?" Asked the Doctor.

"Got some business to take care of," she said, vaguely.

Ginger remembered something else that R.H. had said. "Algoni toxin..." she muttered.

"What was that?" asked the Doctor.

"Nothing, nothing," Ginger said. "That's just the stuff you were experimenting with before, wasn't it? The stuff you brought back from the Maze? Algoni toxin?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said. "Why?"

"R.H. just said that one of the symptoms of it is hearing music."

"You know, I had a theory that it might work on the language centers of the brain," the Doctor said.

"So you didn't, I dunno..."

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you asking me?"

She gestured wildly. "I dunno? Slip us something?"

He was almost offended at the accusation. "You think I'd slip you something without you knowing? And you realize it's not just you, right? You think I also slipped it to the Corsair? Jack? You think I slipped it to my own _daughter_?"

She felt bad now. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't've accused you of anything."

He just looked at her for a moment. "Can you guys give us a moment?" he said to everyone else.

"Oh thank god," Jack said. "It was getting to the point where I was wondering if it wouldn't be more awkward to try to slip out of the room..."

He and the others left Ginger and the Doctor standing there. She wasn't looking at him.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Now what's this all about?" the Doctor said, gently. "You couldn't really believe I'd do something like that, so what was it? Looking for an excuse to split? Would that make it easier for you?"

She shrugged and stood up. "I don't know what came over me, honestly. I still jump to conclusions. R.H. did imply that it was sort of recreational, so maybe I connected dots that weren't even on the same page..."

He smiled. "I see the route your mind took now. It took the scenic path back through our days of recreational substance use. But that was all entirely above board."

"I know," she said. "Is it sick of me that I still think those were some of our happiest times even if I can see that were weren't our best?"

He put his arms around her waist and held her to him as music started again.

_"I've got a flask inside my pocket we can share it on the train_  
_If you promise to stay conscious I will try and do the same_  
_We might die from medication, but we sure killed all the pain..."_

They sang together: _"But what was normal in the evening, by the morning seems insane."_

He held her close and images started flowing between them of all the happy, carefree times they'd had with each other.

She sang softly: _"And I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this."_

_"The reasons all have run away,"_ he sang.

They sang together: _"But the feeling never did."_

_"It's not something I would recommend,"_ he sang. _"But it is one way to live. Cause what is simple in the moonlight, by the morning never is."_

She was grateful that he couldn't see her face, because she was beginning to cry. _"It was so simple in the moonlight, now it's so complicated."_

_"It was so simple in the moonlight,"_ he sang.

_"So simple in the moonlight,"_ she echoed.

_"So simple in the moonlight,"_ they finished together.

They heard footsteps and sprang apart. Ginger turned her back to the door so she could compose herself.

Alex and Kira entered the room.

"Hey," Alex said. "I know we're interrupting, but...Kira's just had an idea."

"I'm going back to Japan," she said. "There's still work to do, at least for a while."

"So," Alex said. "If it'll help you, Ginger, you and Thea can stay with me. Just in case the Judoon come after us and need proof of residence or something."

"I think that's a wonderful idea!" said the Doctor. "When can she move in?"

"I'll give you a date," Alex said. "Can you meet us there?"

...

The Doctor, Jack, and Kira were hashing out details near the console, but Alex and Ginger hovered back near the wall.

"You know you don't have to do this if you don't want to," Ginger said. "You don't have to take me in."

"I want to," Alex said. "Believe it or not, Jack and I were worried about you when you were away. We missed you. You're our friend. I wouldn't offer if I wasn't sure."

Ginger looked at her. "And how are you?" she asked. "All this talk about making sure I'm alright, but you still don't talk about yourself."

"You sound like Thea," she said, dismissively. "She thinks I need to express my real feelings."

"What does that mean?"

"Who knows? Apparently I have a problem with how I interpret empathic input. I sometimes misinterpret other people's feelings for my own and react as if they're my own. Sometimes it's harmless by making me real overprotective, but sometimes I get into actual relationships with people and don't realize until later that I don't actually like them but was actually just absorbing their feelings for me. It's all really confusing."

She nodded. "I think I can relate in my own way. I mean the disorder I have makes me jump to conclusions about what a person wants and then just absorb it into my personality. I can't be sure that my feelings are real or if they're just my disorder telling me it's how I should feel to keep someone else happy."

"Why are feelings so confusing?" Alex asked.

"I know, it sucks," Ginger chuckled.

Alex looked across the room at the Doctor. "You know, I don't want him to die any more than you do. I mean, he's my _dad._"

"I understand sorta," Ginger said. "And you were right, I was jealous for half a second when you were so chummy with Cupid earlier. It's just he's sort of, like...I dunno, it's hard to explain."

"He's sort of your father figure," Alex said. "I picked up on that. He cares about you so much. I think it makes sense that finding out that I actually get to spend time with him would make you feel left out."

"It really sounds weird when you put it like that," Ginger complained.

"Everything about our lives sounds weird when you talk in actual therapy terms," Alex chuckled. "I mean just imagine the Oedipal jokes if we told Freud any of this stuff."

Ginger laughed. "Yeah, I mean, I guess. I'm not as comfortable with Cupid as you are with the Doctor though. I feel like I'm simultaneously trying to make up for and recreate and get over the past. I mean, I trust him but I also don't want to."

Alex nodded. "That's understandable. But if it helps, it took me a while to get used to the Doctor too. But he's been preparing me for this. We've got to accept that it might be time."

"Do we?" Ginger asked. "I'd really like it if things wouldn't change ever again."

Alex began singing again:

_"You don't know what you're hiding from_  
_How did life become such a sad song?_

_You don't know what you're fighting for_  
_What you came here for. Feeling all alone."_

The others realized that Alex was singing and came over to join in.

_"You have loved..." _Jack sang. "_You have lost..."_

_"How could this be happening?" _sang Alex.

_"All alone..." t_he Doctor sang. _"__On your own..."_

_"But, you shouldn't give up," _the three of them sang.  
_"No, you shouldn't do that_  
_Never ever give up_  
_No, don't ever do that."_

_"Nothing is made to last," _the Doctor sang. "_The sun goes up and falls so fast"_

"The_ clock looks still," sang Cupid. "Still the hours pass. __And all that time is never coming back."_

Ginger was blinking back tears. "Are you seriously singing a Very Potter Musical song?"

"Shhh, shhh," Alex said. "I think someone would like to take the next verse."

The Doctor took it away, gazing earnestly around at his friends.

_"Everything has an end  
Even the lives of family and friends  
Everything has an end  
Even when it doesn't make sense."_

He took Ginger's hand in his right hand and took Alex's with his left hand. 

_"You can't hold on to what's gone_  
_Don't try to fix it, just move on_  
_Only then you'll see the world_  
_All brand new."_

Then altogether, they all started a tearful round of the chorus: _"Everything ends."_

After that all ended, the Doctor turned to Alex again, letting go of Ginger.

_"After the sun has had its rest_  
_It will arise and light up the sky_  
_You can't hold on to what's past_  
_Nothing is made to last."_

Alex hugged him.

"I have one condition," she said, when she finally pulled away. "You and Ginger need to talk to each other and actually confess your feelings, because I can't live with her if she's going to be in unbearable denial _all the time_."

"Denial?" Ginger scoffed. "I don't know what you're-"

"Ginger, it's time," Alex said. "For god's sake, it's time. You're in love with each other and if you don't say it then it's gonna eat away at you forever. Just don't expect me to live with it."

...

The Doctor landed in Soho to drop everyone off. The plan was to drop them off where they found them, then skip ahead to Ginger's move-in date.

"Have a nice talk," Cupid said brightly after the others had already left the TARDIS.

"About what?" Ginger asked him, putting her hands on her hips. "What is it you think we should talk about? Because that can't be constructive! Even if there were feelings, it would be wrong of us to have them!"

"Why on Earth would it be wrong, dear?" Cupid asked. "We've gone through all that before, that you were raised human with no clear direct lineage, so it's different."

"It's just weird, it's just wrong," she snapped, slamming a hand on the console in frustration.

Cupid smiled sympathetically. "You know, this was partially why you were chosen. Oh of course, it wouldn't be so effective if you weren't Star Mates, but being a direct descendant of the Master made you much more valuable."

"Why?" 

"Consider the scene," Cupid said. "A young foster kid, raised all her life with no idea who her parents are. This girl finds out that she's not even human. She begins a relationship with the last remaining member of her dead species, only to find out that her direct ancestor once used to date the same person. The girl immediately realizes what's wrong with that picture, but doesn't want to give up the first real connection she's ever had to another person. What's a girl to do?"

"Anything," Ginger replied. "Absolutely whatever it takes so that he never finds out and leaves..." She looked up slowly. "Wow. Good plan."

"You were chosen for this," Cupid said again. "He meant to play on your sensibilities, but the very thing that made other Gingers fall prey to the trap is the thing that's helping you justify breaking away. Use it, absolutely, but only as a means of escape. Don't use it to pretend you feel nothing for each other. Don't do that to yourselves." He made eye contact with the Doctor, who had been absorbing this all in silence. "Have a good chat." 

Cupid took his leave of them.

There was a moment's awkward silence. "Should we...talk?" the Doctor asked.

"About what? There's nothing to talk about."

"Of course not," he said, quickly. "We have to at least pretend that we got this sorted, though."

"You think we can fool the empath into thinking we did things her way?"

"We can try."

Ginger groaned loudly. "This is useless." She threw her hands up into the air.

"What is?" he asked.

"Just give me a minute," she said, walking briskly back into the far depths of the TARDIS.

The Doctor followed her. "Ginger?"

She slammed her bedroom door in her face and leaned her back against it, trying to catch her breath. She could feel the music starting and couldn't bear to see him when the singing began. The Doctor wondered if he should say something, but since he could also hear the music he only leaned his back against the door. Ginger began singing.

_"I'm not in love."_

He echoed. _"I'm not in love."_

They sang together. _"And there will be no future tense for us."_

He turned back to face the door. _"I cannot lie, I know it isn't right to want you."_ He reached out as if to touch the door. _"Most of the time, I stop myself from trying to touch you."_ He stopped just short of letting his fingers connect with the wood of the door, and pulled the hand back as he pressed his back flat against the door again.

_"I'm magnetized!"_ Ginger said.

_"I'm magnetized!"_ the Doctor echoed.

_"I'm magnetized!"_ they sang together. _"I'm magnetized...by you."_

She nearly toppled him over as she sharply opened the door and walked towards him, causing him to walk backwards._ "__You bring your light, I'll bring the pain."_

He started walking towards her as he sang back. _"You bring your joy, I'll bring my shame."_ He reached out slowly to try to gently touch her face. _"I want to kiss the scar that rips your shoulder."_

_"Get so close that it hurts,"_ she said, closing her eyes and sinking into his touch.

He moved in and pressed his forehead to hers. _"Every time I feel us growing closer..."_ She reluctantly pulled away. _"You pull back."_

She pressed herself flat to the wall again as she sang: _"I'm magnetized! I'm magnetized!"_

He started interjecting the spoken parts to this chorus over her parts._ "Magnetized by you."_

_"I'm magnetized!"_

_"Magnetized by you!"_

_"There's nothing I can do,"_ she sang. _"It's all a fantasy."_

She walked toward him and stood so close that they were practically touching as they continued to sing.

_"I would risk everything_  
_Set fire to the house_  
_Pack my bags and walk out_  
_But would you want me to_  
_If I was free?"_

Then they just looked at each other for a beat.

_"I'm not in love,"_ she sang, not able to break eye contact. _"I'm not in love."_

He echoed that. _"I'm not in love, I'm not in love."_

_"I'm not in love,"_ she sang.

_"I'm not in love,"_ he echoed.

Then they sang together._ "I'm not in love, I'm not in love."_

_"I'm magnetized by you!"_ she said the spoken part, grabbing his hands.

_"I'm magnetized by you!"_ he echoed. Then he continued saying that spoken part as she let loose with the rest of the chorus.

_"I'm magnetized!"_

_"Magnetized by you!"_

_"I'm magnetized!"_

_"Magnetized by you!"_

_"I'm magnetized!"_

_"Magnetized-"_

_"I'm magnetized..."_

They found themselves standing almost nose to nose as they finished the line together._ "By you."_

Whether it was the effects of the song itself or something from within them, the kiss they shared then was Earth shattering. They reluctantly pulled apart and stood gasping for air with their foreheads pressed together.

_"There's nothing I can do..."_ the Doctor sang. _"It's all a fantasy."_

The song ended, and they both slowly realized what had happened. Ginger pulled away first, suddenly on the verge of tears. "No," she said, walking backwards. She shook her head. "That doesn't..." She turned to run.

"Ginger, where are you going?"

"I need some air," she said. "_Don't _follow me."

...

The Doctor returned to Alex's apartment.

"Doc?" Alex asked. "I thought you'd left already..." She felt his flood of emotions. "Dad, what's wrong?"

The Doctor explained the problem to Alex, Jack, and Cupid.

Alex shook her head. "Doc, there's no way to put this delicately, but you're an idiot."

"What?" he said. "I don't know what I did!"

"You kissed her!" Alex replied.

"It was heat of the moment! The song called for it! And you were the one pushing us to admit feelings-"

"Yeah, admit _feelings_," Alex said. "Not stick your tongue down her throat!"

"I have to agree with Alex, Doctor," said Cupid. "That was reckless."

"How? We've kissed many times before! This isn't like the time when we kissed in the Maze and she immediately split on me. We're better than that now. We have trust and history and she _likes _me."

"Doctor," Jack said softly. "You're her Josh Chan."

Something about this drained all the indignation from him. "What?"

"Her Josh Chan, Doctor," Jack repeated. "She has Borderline Personality Disorder just like Rebecca Bunch. And you're her Josh Chan."

"I don't understand that," he said dismissively. "I mean, for one thing you're always saying that we have the same dynamic as Greg and Rebecca-"

"You do," Jack said. "But that doesn't change the fact that you have this affect on her. You should've talked about it, had a rational conversation. But you kissed her. That probably set her back significantly."

"She was ready to quit you cold turkey," Cupid said. "Which I agree isn't the best thing for her, but she didn't feel she had a choice. You gave her a fix and sent her backsliding. You're both addicts and she's facing up to that reality now. I imagine her emotions are confusing her and she's wondering if she's even strong enough to give you up. If she'd only talked about it and come to the realization gently that would be one thing. But this is sort of blunt force trauma to the fortress of her denial."

The Doctor knew they were all right. "So she's right, then. I should stay away from her."

"Yes, temporarily," Cupid said. "Until she's healthy enough to be near you. But not right now. She needs you right now. You need to find her and talk to her, because you're the only one who can get through to her."

"Why me?" he asked.

Cupid raised an eyebrow. "You really still have to ask that question? After all this time? You're still this confused? She loves you."

"You keep saying that," he said, slowly. 

"Because it's true," he said, firmly. "I've never met a Doctor who was this confused at this stage. I heard you when you were inside her head. You told her then that you knew she loved you. What's changed between then and now to make you lose that certainty?"

"It's not that anything changed," he admitted. "I'm always this confused about her. When I said those things, I was absolutely certain in that moment. But then the next I doubted it again. Her feelings are so contradictory and they change so suddenly. I'm never quite sure where I fit."

"Doctor, she's Borderline," Cupid said gently. "Yes, I did some reading up as well, and it makes a great deal of sense. She's responded to you in less than healthy ways, but the fact of the matter is that she loves you."

"How can you tell?"

"She trusts you. You of all people know how rare and hard-won that trust is. You see, Doctor, for her trust and love are the same thing. Trust comes first, of course, but there can be no love in her heart without absolute trust. There's a wisdom in that, sad as it is. She doesn't give her heart blindly. She only gives it to those she trusts not to misuse it. She doesn't mean to be the way she is. She's just trying to protect herself."

...

Ginger sat on a park bench, trying to gather her thoughts. Unfortunately they all came in song.

_"Those boom times..."_ She got up from the bench, buoyed by the weight of her frustrations. _"Went bust-_

_"My feet of clay, they dried to dust_  
_The red isn't the red we painted_  
_It's... just... rust_  
_That signature thing that used to bring a following_  
_I have trouble now, even remembering_

_So why did I kiss him so hard late last Friday night_  
_And keep on letting him change all my plans_  
_I'm either so sick in the head_  
_I need to be bled dry to quit_  
_Or I just really used to love him..."_

The Doctor tried not to sneak up on her. "Ginger," he said softly. "I know you said not to follow you. I tried to give you time..."

"What is the point of this?" she whispered. "Why force us into saying things that might not even be true?"

"Why wouldn't they be true?" he asked. "We're perfect for each other."

She laughed bitterly as another tune began. "Perfect? You call this perfect?" She took his hands and began to dance in a circle with him.

_"'Cause we're all so perfectly perfect, but not for long_  
_And we'll be so perfectly perfect, 'til we're forced to move on_  
_And we're both so pitifully clueless to what we've become_  
_Chances are that our love is now utterly, thoroughly done_  
  
_The more you think that you're right, chances are that you're probably wrong!"_

She let go of him abruptly and turned away.

"Ginger," he said gently. 

_"I don't want to believe,"_ she sang. _"This is the end..."_ She swallowed hard. "I don't want this song to end. Every song we sing brings us closer to a full set." She was really crying now. "You know what, just forget it. Let's go get me packed since you want me to leave so badly." 

She rushed away before she could hear him sing softly:

_"I don't want you to leave."_

...

Ginger went to pack, but the Doctor took the opportunity to consult Jack and Cupid.

"I just don't know what to do," the Doctor said. "She's so unstable. I hate to be leaving her. I just wish there was some way to make her understand how I feel, because trying to talk about it doesn't work."

"Are you sure that it's just about letting her know how you feel?" Jack said. "Because it sounds like you'd really like her to confirm how she feels."

"Of course it's both," the Doctor said.

"You don't think you've both given each other enough confirmation?" Cupid asked. "Some things don't need to be spoken, they just need to be communicated. The problem is that you two aren't speaking the same language."

"Sometimes I think we are," the Doctor said. "There's this game we play - we call it 'Chat-Up Casanova' - where we tell each other bad lines. There are too many times where I'm not certain that she isn't being serious but can't say it properly without the jokes."

"Yes, exactly," Cupid said. "You gave her more plausible deniability. She can keep denying the depth of her feeling even to herself because it's just a game, right? It's just a character. She does the same thing with music. It's an easy vehicle to describe what she has trouble understanding, but ask her to just say it plain and she can't do that."

"What if I say it to her, then?"

"You have."

"When?"

"Every minute of every day," Cupid said. "There are couples who say 'I love you' every day who don't mean it nearly as much as you two do in your actions. Every carefully chosen word, every stolen glance, everything you do is punctuated with 'I love you'. You sing her favorite songs, quote along with her favorite movies, eat her favorite foods...You try so hard to make her comfortable. It's a confession and it's a loud one."

He thought about this and realized that Cupid was right. He'd been agonizing over being the coward who couldn't make himself say it, but he had been all along in every way that counted.

_Made you hot chocolate just the way you like it. **I love you.**_

_Have you been sleeping? I hope it's not the nightmares again. **I love you.**_

_Do you want to stay? **I love you.**_

_It's fine if you want to stop. **I love you.**_

_It's been a long day, but did you want to watch Moulin Rouge again? **I love you.**_

_How are you feeling? I know I asked you that five minutes ago, but it might've changed since then. _ ** _I love you._ **

_If you never talked to me again, that would be devastating. **I love you.**_

The Doctor sat back in his chair, resigning himself to this overwhelming flood of emotions.

"It's not what people think," he said, finally. "It's not just a physical thing. I was never in it for the physicality, even though I love that aspect of it." He smiled to himself. "You know, she's really quite a clumsy person once she takes off her glasses. Can't see a thing. She's all elbows. That's what gets me about her, that she isn't perfect. That she doesn't try to be, even when she's put on some character. She's just fun. We have fun. We can laugh about how awkward it is. It's not like in the movies where everything is serious, like it's a sacred ritual. It's never like that. Sometimes there's minor bruising because she can't see anything without her glasses on. It's endearing. I like that about her."

"You know that she's nearsighted, right?" Cupid asked.

"Sorry?"

"She's nearsighted, I'm sure she told you. Not that I'm negating what you say, because I'm sure she is awkward and terribly clumsy. That's just the sort of person she is. But if she's taking off her glasses, it's not so she can't see you. It's so you're the only thing she can see. Or, at least, that's my best guess. I'm a hopeless romantic."

"I never thought of it that way," the Doctor admitted.

"You asked me once if she had any special pheromones or abilities to enthrall you this much," Cupid said. "And it's true that she doesn't. Her hold on you always said more about you than it did about her. Because you wanted an easy way out. She gave you that. You were lonely and needed someone to tell you that it was alright to dodge responsibility. That's not all it was, but that was enough to make you think you need her. But you've gotta put your glasses back on sometime and see the world as it really is."

"Yeah, you're right," the Doctor said. "Of course you are." He got to his feet. 

"Go to her," Cupid replied. "Set things right. It's time."

He nodded. "Thank you." He left in a hurry.

Cupid spoke again without looking at Jack. "So you know too, don't you? She's spoken to you about her feelings for him? I could see the lack of surprise in your aura. Not even a hint of speculations being confirmed."

Jack grinned. "We spoke about it, yeah. Several times. She didn't always know what she wanted, but her heart has been warming incrementally for a while."

"It's good of you not to betray the confidence," Cupid said. "If the Doctor were to be made aware of what was said..."

"You didn't betray whatever she told you," he pointed out. "I know it would make it easier for him, but she wouldn't want me to say anything. So I won't."

Cupid nodded. "Let's hope the Doctor knows what he's doing, at least."

...

The Doctor returned to the TARDIS and found her crying on the sofa in the holodeck. He knew he needed to announce himself so as not to startle her.

"Ginger..." he said, softly.

She looked up at him as a sad reprise floated by.

_"Please please please_  
_No more maladies_  
_I'm so tired of crying..."_ Her voice cracked and she paused for half a beat before continuing.  
_"You'd think I was a siren."_

She swallowed hard. "Siren's a good word for me, isn't it? You always said my singing made you crazy. Maybe you'd even follow it to your death."

"Ginger," he repeated, coming further into the room.

She continued singing.

_"Give us something familiar  
Something similar  
To what we know already  
That will keep us steady..."_

She got to her feet and wobbled a bit.

_"Steady,"_ she sang.

_"Steady,"_ he sang, reaching out to help her right herself.

She looked into his eyes and was unable to pull herself away. "_Steady going nowhere," _they sang together.

"Nowhere," she whispered. "Yeah. That's right, isn't it? Because I'm still standing in your way. Still keeping you stuck here with me."

"I'm not under duress, Ginger," he assured her. "You're not keeping me against my will. Being with you, it doesn't feel like being stuck."

"But it's not like it was with Rose," she pointed out. "I might not know much about that, but I know some things. I know you loved her. Like _really _loved her. And it wasn't bad or complicated like it is with me. I mean, do you even like me?"

"Of course I like you-"

"Do you? Because from what I'm starting to understand, none of your feelings for me would be possible if I wasn't able to be your rebound girl."

"You're not a rebound girl to me," he said preemptively. "Maybe you would've been if things had started with us right from the beginning, but we got to be friends. You and I, we're different. I still love Rose and I always will. That doesn't take away from what we have."

"I hate this so much," she said. "I mean it, I hate it. Everything's so confusing. I don't know who I am or what I'm feeling. _I've damn near got no dignity left."_

"Is that the problem?" he asked. "You're still hung up on your pride?"

"Of course not, I'm more hung up on you." The words slipped out before she realized she was going to say them. They looked at each other for a moment before she crossed her arms and looked away again. "It felt like you were the best thing that ever happened to me. So of course that meant you were bad for me. Everything good that ever happened to me in my life was just part of some trick." She wiped furiously at her eyes. "_Every little girl is so naive. Falling in love with the first man that she sees..."_

There it was again, that sad, hopeful skip of his hearts. "Falling in love?" he repeated.

She gathered herself and glared at him. "Of course not," she scoffed. "I didn't mean it like...it's just the song."

"Songs mean much more to you than they do to most people," the Doctor pointed out. "Sometimes your real feelings just slip out."

"Well not this time." She turned away from him. "_I will not be a victim of romance. I will not be a victim of circumstance. Chance or circumstance or romance or any man who can get his dirty little hands on me..."_

The Doctor could see that she was trembling in spite of herself and knew she was only a moment away from crying again. He took a tentative step toward her and took the chorus. "_When we were in love-"_

"_If we were_," she added.

He repeated it more forcefully. "_When we were in love-"_

"Stop it," she said, refusing to let this song go any further. "This is ridiculous. I can't love anything. I don't think I'm allowed."

"Of course you're allowed."

"No, you don't understand. I'm broken. I can't love anything."

"I know you've been told all your life that autistic people can't love, but-"

"It's not just that. I'm _broken. _How can I know what I feel for you is real? I've got nothing to compare this to. So what is it? Feelings I was manipulated into having? Borderline Personality Disorder absorbing your wants and needs and making them my own so that you won't leave me?"

"It can be real even if it is one of those things."

"We just need to go," she said, sweeping past him. "I need to get the rest of my stuff packed so I can shove off."

She stepped into the hall and the Doctor stepped in front of her to block her path. "Wait, I just-"

She groaned. "I don't want to talk about this."

He followed her to the control room. 

"Talk about what?" he asked her.

"This is some reprise, isn't it?" she asked him. He noticed that the song had changed again. "Pulling a real throwback to Valentine's Day."

"This is the version that Jack wouldn't let you play," he said. "Because he wanted you to do the faster version."

"You remember," she said, bitterly. "This version's more us, anyway. Gotta save it for when we really feel it. All that angst stripped away and there's just..."

"What?"

She threw her hands in the air. "I dunno! A desperate plea? Abject depression? I mean what is it? What's the thing that, in the end, makes me so different from Rose? Besides everything. Because I've asked the TARDIS about her-"

"You did what?"

"Don't act so shocked!" Ginger snapped. "I wanted to know, okay? I needed to know after all that happened what made Rose the special one! Why she's what we're all not living up to in your mind!"

"I've told you, you don't have to live up to anything. You and Rose are completely different people-"

"Because she's prettier and sweeter than me, right?" Ginger demanded. "Didn't have the same kinda hard life I did, so it didn't make her bitter. You _wouldn't _want me the same way I want you if it wasn't for losing her! You want _someone_ \- it doesn't matter that it's me! Could be anyone!"

"That's not true!" he insisted. "It's not! Losing Rose might be one factor to consider, but if it was the main one then why didn't I go for Martha? I chose to be with you-"

"Chose is a strong word in this situation-"

He couldn't help but get a little frustrated. "Right, okay, have a go at me and Rose. You're just lashing out at every possible excuse now!"

"Maybe we should've sooner!" she said, voice trembling. "Because there's no way I can ever be good for you like Rose. I wish I was. I wish so badly that I wasn't just...this." She gestured vaguely to herself. "You deserve so much better than me."

It broke his heart to hear her say that. "Ginger, we've been through this so many times now. It's not about what we deserve. Can you just...can you _try _to understand that what I have with you is different than what I have with Rose? It's not better or worse, it's just different. It's...it's..." He fought hard to find the right words before he realized that the music was still playing in the background. He realized it was waiting for him.

_"I don't understand about complimentary colors_  
_And what they say_  
_Side by side they both get bright_  
_Together they both get gray..."_

He smiled nostalgically.

_"But she was pretty much yellow..."_

The smile faded.

_"And I've been kind of blue..."_

He looked at Ginger then, moving forward to hold her face in both his hands.

_"But all I can see is  
Red, red, red, red, red  
Now... what am I gonna do?"_

He let go of her and walked a few paces away, keeping his back to her. Now it was her time to sing.

_"I don't understand about diamonds_

_And why men buy them_  
_What's so impressive about a diamond_  
_Except the mining?"_

He turned sharply back to her and sang:

_"But it's dangerous work_

_Trying to get to you too_  
_And I think if I didn't have to kill_  
_Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill myself doing it_  
_Maybe I wouldn't think so much of you."_

She swallowed hard and sang:

_"I've been watching all the time  
And I still can't find the tack  
But I wanna know is, is it okay  
Is it just fine  
Or is it my fault  
Is it my lack?"_

He softened a bit. He hated seeing her so torn up. He sang:

_"I don't understand about  
The weather outside  
Or the harmony in a tune  
Or why somebody lied  
But there's solace a bit in submitting  
To the fitfully, cryptically true  
What's happened, has happened  
What's coming is already on its way  
With a role for me to play..."_

She realized he was talking about his fate, so she sang:

_"I don't understand  
I never understand  
But I'll try to understand  
There's nothing else I can do."_

She wiped away her tears. "I'm sorry. This hurts so much. I didn't know it could hurt this much." Another melody began playing that she gave into.

_"Life inside the music box ain't easy_

_The mallets hit, the gears are always turning_

_And everyone inside the mechanism_

_Is yearning to get out..."_

She stuck out a hand, inviting the Doctor to dance with her again which he did.

_"And sing another melody completely_

_So different from the one they're always singing..."_

She let go of his hand and swayed in place, closing her eyes.

_"I close my eyes and think that I have found me..."_

She wrapped her arms around herself.

_"But then I feel mortality surround me_

_I want to sing another melody_

_So different from the one I always sing."_

The Doctor understood. "Ginger," he said softly. "You're not still feeling suicidal?"

"It's kind of my default," Ginger shrugged. "Got no zest for life. Especially when my reason for living is about to go and, well, not be living anymore."

"Ginger," the Doctor said. "I can't be your reason for living. That can't be my job."

"Oh come on," Ginger said, trying to shrug it off. "It's not like I'm actually going to act on this. It's just a feeling. It's hard for me, you know? I got so...attached to this life. I've never gotten attached before. I almost properly liked being Ginger. But am I Ginger without you? I'm terrified of what happens next. You couldn't possibly understand."

"I understand," the Doctor said. "More than you know. I actually...got sort of attached to this regeneration. I never get attached to regenerations. I actually hate the idea of giving it up."

"Ginger," Jack said, alerting them to his presence.

"God," Ginger said, jumping. "How long have you two been standing there?"

"Not long," said Cupid. "Only long enough to know that you're still not well, pumpkin."

"This is sort of a private moment-" the Doctor began.

"I assure you, I was going to leave you to it," said Cupid. "But Jack had something that he wanted to say and I couldn't convince him that it could wait."

They looked at Jack. 

"Well," Ginger said. "What is it?"

Jack approached her slowly. "I tried to let you have space because this isn't really any of my business," he said. "But I couldn't stand it if I didn't tell you now."

Ginger was unsure how to respond and mildly uncomfortable. "You trying to make a declaration of love, Harkness? Because I don't date rent boys-"

"It's not that," he said. "Or maybe it is, but not the way you think. I just need you to know that I've lived a long, long time. Watched friends and family come and go. I've filled the void as best I could - usually with people. But what I've really missed in my life is a genuine family connection. You always felt like a long-lost sister to me, in a way. When I heard you'd tried to kill yourself...it devastated me more than I care to admit. But then I found out you were Gallifreyan and I just felt...so relieved. Because you wouldn't die, at least not for a very very long time. I wouldn't have to watch you wither and die. I convinced myself that finding that out changed things for you too, but it didn't. You were suicidal right there in front of me 5 years ago. And it terrified me. Because I realized that maybe that void I was trying to fill couldn't be filled by meaningless flings with perishable people. I'm an old man now...and I just want a family. I wasn't looking for a sister, but I feel like I found one. I don't want to lose you."

"Jack-" Ginger said, completely taken by surprise.

"Ginger, would you dance with me?" Jack asked.

Ginger was startled. "What?"

"Just for a moment," he said. "I have a feeling the song can't start until we do."

"Erm...alright," Ginger said, taking her proffered hand and starting to waltz. "Be warned, I can't dance."

Jack began to sing.

_"Everyone's too scared to open their eyes up_  
_But everyone's too scared to close them_  
_Everyone's frightened they don't know what's coming_  
_But everyone's frightened of knowing_

_Everyone's reading the rules of engagement_  
_And everyone's starting to doubt them_  
_Everyone's reaching to put on a seatbelt_  
_But this kind of ride comes without them_  
_I want you to think of me sitting and singing beside you_  
_I wish we could meet all the people behind us in line_  
_The climb to the crest is less frightening with someone to clutch you_  
_But isn't it nice when we're all afraid at the same time_

_And it's just a ride_  
_It's just a ride_  
_And you've got the choice to get off anytime that you like_  
_It's just a ride_  
_It's just a ride_  
_The alternative is nothingness_  
_We might as well give it a try."_

He spun her in place and she found herself being scooped up by Cupid, who took over the waltz and began to sing next.

_"Everyone's terrified that they'll be justified by the collapse that will happen_  
_Everyone's placing their bets just in case_  
_The whole thing's a profound disappointment_  
_Everyone's trying to stay on the side where the water's just boiling more slowly_  
_Frogs in a pot, well that's one thing I've got_  
_At least some of the frogs in here know me_

_I want you to think of me sitting and singing beside you_  
_The chain pulls us up and we know that we're all gonna dive_  
_The blur and the noise of the screaming can blind and distract you_  
_But isn't it nice when we all can scream at the same time_

_And it's just a ride_  
_It's just a ride_  
_And you've got the choice to get off anytime that you like_  
_It's just a ride_  
_It's just a ride_  
_The alternative's nothingness_  
_Might as well give it a try."_

He spun her around. _"And as we all go down..."_

Jack took her back up. _"And as we all go round..."_ He spun her right into the Doctor's arms.

He sang. _"And as we pitch from side to side..."_ He took her face in both his hands. _"Everything is going to be alright."_

The Doctor brushed away her tears as they continued to waltz around the TARDIS.

_"Everyone's getting real scared to come out because coming out's going down badly_  
_Feel the city breaking and everybody's shaking_  
_And I just want someone to hold me_  
_Some are too scared to let go of their children_  
_And some are too scared now to have them_  
_Suicide, homicide, genocide, man, that's a fuck-ton of sides you can choose from_

_I want you to think of me sitting and singing beside you_  
_I wish we could meet all the people who got left behind_  
_The ride is so loud it can make you think nobody's listening_  
_But isn't it nice when we all can cry at the same time_

_And it's just a ride_  
_It's just a ride_  
_And you've got the choice to get off anytime that you like_  
_It's just a ride_  
_It's just a ride_  
_The alternative's nothingness_  
_Might as well give it a try_

_And as we all go down_  
_And as we all go round_  
_And as we switch from side to side_  
_Everything is gonna be just fine_  
_Everyone you love is gonna die_  
_Hopefully, this song will come remind you_

_That's it's just a ride."_

He held her close to him and she closed her eyes as he sang the final notes.

_"Come on out darling_  
_And don't you cry_

_It's just a ride."_

He pulled back so she could look at him. "Ginger, I need you to know that I'm not doing this to abandon you."

"I know," she whispered. "You're trying to save everyone."

"You're part of everyone," he said. "I'm doing this for them, but I'm also doing it for you. So that you can live. I can't go through with it if there's a chance that you'll hurt yourself the moment I walk out the door."

"Come on," Cupid said to Jack. "Let's give them a little privacy.

Ginger and the Doctor hadn't looked away from each other.

"I don't want to make this harder for you than it already is," Ginger said. "I can't stand the idea of hurting you. But what if I can't help it? What if I'm just..."

"What?"

The music began again and Ginger clung to him as she sang.

_"Another day, another waste of my heart_

_It only beats when it wants to_

_Another step, and I've learned to hold my breath_

_Still scared to want you_

_I'll be the mess, you be the medicine_

_I'll be the mess, you play the medicine_

_Why don't you fix me?_  
_I can't help myself_  
_Why don't you fix me?_  
_You know I'm fading still_

_I have tried to be better inside_  
_We both know how it kills_  
_I've tried to heal myself so many times,_  
_But we both know that I'm still ill."_

He hugged her, cutting off her song before it could go to another chorus. He picked one line from the final verse to sing to her.

_"Every scar one day will heal_  
_Every tear one day will dry."_

"You promise?" she whispered. She insisted on singing part of the last verse.

_"Why don't you fix me?_  
_Don't you leave me here_  
_Why don't you fix me?_  
_I'm fading faster and faster."_

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away and forcing a smile. "I'm being manipulative again."

"You're being honest," he said. "It's alright. And, for the record, you don't need me to fix you."

_..._

The Doctor helped Ginger pack her last few things, but she couldn't find her psychic paper. She had the idea that she might've left it in the Doctor's room, but it seemed to be nowhere to be found.

"I don't see it," the Doctor said. "I've checked everywhere it could be, I might just have to send it to you if I find it..." He noticed that she'd stopped looking and was staring at him with the strangest look on her face. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, hurriedly looking away.

He knew what she was worrying about and searched for the words to make it better. "I want you to know, Ginger, that this isn't your fault." She looked up at him, startled by the turn of the conversation. "None of this has been your fault. I don't want you blaming yourself for what happens to me, because it isn't your fault."

"It's all fine to say that to me, Doctor," she said. "But when are you gonna start believing that this isn't your fault? Because you shouldn't take responsibility for me. You didn't ask for this."

"I wish you could stay," he said, softly.

"Me too," she admitted without looking at him.

Music began again. 

_"It's crazy when,"_ she sang, turning away from him. _"The thing you love the most is the detriment. Let that sink in."_

He stepped up behind her, putting his arms around her waist and feeling the way she sank gratefully into his embrace.

_"You can think again,"_ he sang, sliding his right hand down her arm and stretching it out wide. _"When the hand you wanna hold is a weapon and..."_ Her arm bent and she pressed her hand to his cheek and tilted her chin, moved by a desperate need to be nearer to him. He fought hard to push her away, but couldn't quite. _"You're nothing but skin."_ He pushed her away, but she managed to keep hold of his hand and they started to dance with each other, both of them singing together.

_"Oh, 'cause I keep diggin' myself down deeper_

_I won't stop 'til I get where you are."_

_"I keep running,"_ she sang.

_"I keep running,"_ he echoed.

_"I keep running,"_ they sang together.

And suddenly she was in his arms again as they continued to sing.

_They say I may be making a mistake_

_I would've followed all the way, no matter how far_

_I know when you go down all your darkest roads_

_I would've followed all the way to the graveyard."_

_"It's funny how,"_ he sang, as she leaned into him as close as she could get without actually kissing him. _"The warning signs can feel like they're butterflies."_

She gasped as she remembered the situation they were in and let go of him, turning away and walking a few paces forward. "This is a mistake," she said. "We can't do this. I know I'm just the rebound girl for Rose-"

"I keep telling you, you're not a rebound," he insisted.

She held up a hand to stop him. "Please, just let me be a rebound. Please, Doctor. Let me mean nothing more to you than a distraction. Then I can tell myself that it wouldn't really work. If you don't care for me as much as you cared for Rose, then it wouldn't really work. You would've been safe from me all along."

"I don't need to be safe from you," he said. "I keep telling you this isn't your fault. I do care about you. I care about you just as much as I care about Rose, it's just different with you." He threw in a reference he knew she'd understand. "Rose is a ghost that broke my heart before I met you."

She latched onto the reference eagerly. "Yeah, that's good then. A ghost that broke your heart before I met you. So that means you can say it to me, you can say: 'Lover, please, do not fall to your knees, it's not like I believe in everlasting love.' Come on, just say that for me or sing it, either way is better than thinking that I could be capable of hurting you in any way."

"I can't say that to you," the Doctor said. "It isn't true."

"But I've seen the alternatives and they're not pretty," she insisted, desperately. "Us being together gets you broken or dead. Tell me you're different than that. Tell me you're smarter than the other Doctors and you wouldn't fall for it."

"I didn't fall for it," he said softly. "I fell for you."

The corners of his mouth twitched and she could see that he was trying to make her smile and it nearly worked. There was something so sweet and corny about that which ended up being quite funny. She recognized this game, because they played it often. It was Chat-Up Casanova, the game of cheesy romantic lines. She loved this game. She loved the ambiguity of saying something stupid and getting the quick reaction to it. She needed that kind of levity right then. But after a half-second's thought, she came back to herself. Because he was trying to lighten the mood and shrug it off as unimportant, but she could see a bit of anxiety in his eyes. He was putting himself out there and was afraid of the consequences. Because, on a very real level, he was serious.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Don't say that. Please." She couldn't believe the sentiment. It went against everything she knew to believe that someone could feel that way for her. And even if she could trust the authenticity of the feeling, she could feel its inherent fragility. Something so sweet could only ever be fleeting.

"Maybe I should say it in other words, then. Words you can understand. Ginger, you are the most maddening person I've ever met." He moved toward her. "You consume every one of my thoughts."

"Stop it," she muttered.

"I would do anything just to be the person who makes you happy."

"Stop."

"I keep thinking about us," he pressed on. "About our little mantra that you make me crazy and I keep you sane. The Corsair asked me if I thought that was a fair trade, and maybe it's not. But damn if I didn't love every minute of it."

She laughed under her breath, a bitter, broken sound. "You did? Every minute? The minutes we spent fighting back when we first got to know each other? How about all those times that I'd say something particularly cruel to you? How about being tortured by some unnamed monster who was trying to get nonsensical answers out of me? How about being drugged by my doppelganger and made to watch me make a life and death decision? How about nearly dying because I make terrible decisions?"

"Not some of our greatest hits," he admitted. "And while we're listing, I could've gone without nearly losing you on Christmas. I didn't even feel this way for you then, but there was something between us and it hurts me more every day when I remember you like that. But I think back through all of that and can't help but think that the hard times meant we earned it. We earned a happy ending."

She cast her eyes to the ceiling, willing herself to hold back tears. "I need to go. I need to get out of your way so you can leave me. I have to let you leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," he said, realizing the implication. "That's not what this is. It can't possibly be a permanent goodbye - prophesy or no prophesy. I promise-"

"Please, don't," she said, holding up a hand to stop him.

"Don't what?" he asked.

"Don't lie to me, not about that."

"I'm not." He was always mystified by her mood changes. One minute she wanted to be lied to and the next it was unthinkable.

"It's one thing to lie to me about how you feel, but don't tell me you're gonna come back and then just leave me waiting," she said. "Don't treat me like I'm one of your naive human girls. Rule number one: The Doctor lies. He does it to be kind, but it's still a lie. I don't hold onto hope, that's not me. That's rule number one for me: Don't have hope, you'll just get let down. Don't lie to me."

A familiar song began and Ginger sang along.

_"I'm not like all the other girls_  
_I won't take it like the other girls_  
_I won't fake it like the other girls_  
_That you used to know."_

And they found themselves standing almost nose to nose, the implications hanging in the air between them.

_"You're taking me over,"_ the Doctor sang, breaking the silence. _"Over and over."_ He turned to walk away, knowing he had to do the right thing.

_"Don't say it's over,"_ Ginger sang in a small voice, opting for the alternate live lyrics Shirley used in the song. _"Over and over."_

And he couldn't help it. Whether it was something from inside them or if they were being moved by the music, he was pulled as if by an invisible force to walk quickly back to her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her again. She threw her arms around his neck and held him close as they toppled onto the bed.

He pulled off her jacket to expose the cami she was wearing underneath. He kissed her shoulder, right where he now knew there used to be a deep scar from a straitjacket. The signs of pain were gone, but he knew the hurt was still there. He was determined not to let her feel it, even if just for as long as this lasted.

_ **I love you.** _

There was no laughter, no flailing elbows, no joy. They'd been together like this so many times, but this was the first time it felt like they were actively trying to communicate something to each other. It was almost a language. A ceremonial chant. 

** _I love you i love you i_ **

...

So they came to be lying in the Doctor's bed some time later, staring at the ceiling and realizing the magnitude of everything. The song was still playing softly, never having really left them.

"That shouldn't've happened," the Doctor said.

"I know," she said.

"It's the last time," he said. "That felt like the last time. The song hasn't ended yet. It's nearly there, though."

She swallowed hard._ "Ending with letting go."_

He echoed. _"Ending with letting go."_

They sang together. _"Ending with letting go."_

_"Let's pretend,"_ she sang. _"Happy end."_

_"Let's pretend,"_ he echoed. _"Happy end."_

_"Let's pretend,"_ she sang.

_"Happy end,"_ he sang.

Then they finished the song together. _"Let's pretend, happy end."_

Silence hung heavy between them. That, in itself, was disquieting.

"What are you thinking about?" He whispered.

"So many things," she whispered back, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers. "You, me, the universe. The passage of time, the turn of the Earth..."

"Everything is connected and part of each other."

"Exactly. I remember the first time someone told me that the Earth was spinning. It was in school and I was like 'of course'. I'd always known it was, can't you feel it? And apparently nobody else could. It was just me, completely aware we were hurtling through space on a spinning rock while everyone else thought we stood still at the center of everything. My whole life was like that. Rationalizing away all the ways I was different. But here we are now and I feel it again." She took his hand and squeezed it tightly, like a lifeline. Like the only tether she had to existence. "Time passing. The turn of the earth. We can't stop it, we're completely at its mercy. We're hurtling through space, you and I, clinging to this tiny unforgiving world and if we let go..."

He squeezed her hand, feeling that same inexorable progression toward a rapidly approaching end. He considered her, the life she'd led, the person she was becoming. She was exactly the person he needed.

"Then don't let go," he said. "Not yet. We can have a moment longer."

"One last moment of infinity," she replied. "The last second before the end of our time together. Hurtling through empty space." She blinked back tears. "This is it, isn't it? The part where I leave?"

"One of us has to," he acknowledged.

"It's wild," she whispered. "How easy it is to just give in to what you want and to know that what you want isn't at all good for you..."

They sang together. 

_"This song is about you_

_Cause I can't live without you_  
_When a song is about you_  
_Then you know you've got problems_  
_That you can choose_

_There's a hole in my conscience_  
_There's a hole in my country_  
_Like a nose that keeps running_  
_Like a hose that won't stop flowing_  
_And I know that it's coming_  
_It's coming_  
_It's coming_  
_It's coming soon_

_Here's why_  
_Cause you are the ocean_  
_And I'm good at drowning_

_The morning will follow_  
_And I wont remember_

_It feels like I've been here_  
_I've been here forever..."_

She let go, though every cell in her body was screaming at her to stay. The music stopped. There was a moment where they both struggled to control their breathing as the world seemed to stop spinning. Or, at least, it wasn't spinning nearly as fast. They'd reached a collision point and could now stand still and see things as they were and not as the what they wished it could be. Time moved forward. She got up and threw her clothes on. He stared at the ceiling, physically unable to watch her leave.

...

The Doctor met Ginger in the control room several minutes later.

"All packed?" He asked, peering at her bags.

She nodded. "Guess it's time."

"If I find your psychic paper, I'll send it to you."

"Hm? Oh." She reached in her pocket and pulled the psychic paper out. "You mean this? The pathetic lie I told to buy more time? Yeah, I never lost it."

They smiled sadly at each other before he turned to set a course for moving day.

"I want you to know," Ginger said softly. "I always knew I was different. My whole life, nobody would let me forget it. The closest I came to feeling special was when I was up on stage in front of an audience. You were the first person who made me feel special for just being me."

"Funny," he said. "I was about to say something similar to you."

"You were?"

He nodded. "I know how difficult it is for you to get close to people. The fact that you let me be near you not just physically but emotionally...I want you to know that I never took that lightly. It has been my honor to be the one you let in. You made me feel special."

They gazed at each other for a moment before the Doctor pulled the final lever to allow the TARDIS to materialize behind Alex's apartment. 

"There you are!" Alex said, throwing open the doors. "I was beginning to worry!" She caught sight of Ginger, who had hastily turned away from the Doctor and was pinning ornamental butterflies in her hair. Alex stopped short when she felt the vibes. "Aw hell, what happened now?"

"Things," Ginger said, vaguely.

"Aw hell," Alex said again, glancing at Cupid for reinforcements. "You picking up on this?"

"I am," Cupid replied. "But I think it's good. They got it out of their systems."

"It's still really gross," Alex said.

"Ginger's a bit nostalgic now, actually," the Doctor said, changing the subject. "Bit on the sad side. I was thinking we need to cheer her up."

Ginger looked at him sharply. "Cheer me up? I don't think-"

"Don't be silly," he said, waving away her objections. "We've got the whole gang here and I think we need to go to Harry Potter world at Universal Studios."

"What?" Alex said, suddenly excited. "We're going to Harry Potter world?"

"I..." Ginger said, feeling the excitement mount. "But do you think we have time?"

"We have time for one more day," he said. "Then I'll go. Don't want this to be the last thing you..." He trailed off, realizing he was about to say 'remember of me'.

The Doctor punched in the last few coordinates and the TARDIS materialized somewhere else.

"Is it...are we here?" Ginger asked. "At Hogwarts?"

"Only one way to find out," the Doctor said.

"Wait just a minute," Ginger said, taking the opportunity to look through her bags. "I'm not ready."

"What are you doing?" Jack asked.

She pulled out her replica Weasley sweater with the big G on it. "Gotta change. Only take a second - I was Viola in Twelfth Night, I can do a quick change."

"She was astounding in it," Cupid said, fondly. "Just barely a teenager, but already had a real grasp on what it took to play a Shakespearean leading lady."

"But you'd never let me play Ophelia," she said. "I'm still annoyed about that."

"I admit I was nervous it might bring out the worst of your suicidal ideation," he replied, sadly. "I wanted us to steer clear of minefields. I always tried to get you clear of anything that might potentially cause you to emulate those characters. It's specifically why I cast you as Alice."

"Alice?" Alex repeated. "Alice as in _Alice in Wonderland_?"

"Er, yeah," Ginger admitted. "Why?"

"You've been complaining _all this time _about being snubbed when you had the role as _the lead_?"

"It wasn't challenging," Ginger said. "I wanted a challenge."

Alex shook her head. "I don't understand you sometimes."

"Just let me do a quick change," Ginger said, taking off her shirt to reveal he black cami she was wearing underneath.

"Right here?" Alex asked, eyes wide as saucers.

But it was too late, Ginger had been in theatre too long and had no real concept of shame. She quickly pulled on the new shirt.

"Oh your, uh..." Alex said, stepping forward. "One of your butterfly hairpins is caught on your jumper. Let me help." She reached up and gently helped her untangle herself and finish pulling the sweater on. "There."

...

They walked out into the theme park and Alex was struck immediately by the wealth of emotion coming off Ginger. They all glanced to Ginger as she began to cry again.

"What's wrong?" the Doctor asked. "Too much?"

"It's beautiful," she said. "It's perfect. It's everything."

She began singing:

_"Stuck it out this far together_  
_Put our dreams through the shredder_  
_Let's toast 'cause things got better."_

Alex took it from there:

_"And everything could change like that_  
_And all these years go by so fast_  
_But nothing lasts forever."_

_"Here's to us,"_ Ginger sang.

_"Here's to love,"_ the Doctor sang.

_"All the time's that we fucked up,"_ Ginger sang.

_"Here's to you,"_ Alex sang.

_"Fill the glass,"_ Jack sang.

_"'Cuz the last few days have kicked my ass,"_ Ginger sang.

_"If they give ya hell,"_ Alex sang.

_"Tell 'em to go fuck themselves,"_ sang Ginger.

_"Here's to us,"_ they sang together.

...

They made it a day, going to all the Hogsmeade shops and eating at the Three Broomsticks. They eventually made their way up to visit Hogwarts itself just as the sun was beginning to set. Alex could sense another song coming on, but this one wasn't for her.

"My friends," Cupid said, softly. "Why don't we give the Doctor and Ginger some time and space? After all this time, I think they've earned it."

For once, they didn't protest as the others left them.

"Not afraid to be left alone with me anymore?" the Doctor teased her.

"Shut up," she said, repressing a smile.

"They were really subtle about leaving us alone just then, weren't they?"

"Oh completely." Ginger linked arms with him. "This was all...everything I could ever want. Thank you."

"It was my honor," he said. They were both aware that the music had started once again, but were reluctant to follow it through. 

Ginger smiled suddenly, fighting the urge to laugh.

"What?" he asked, both amused and relieved by this action.

"It's just...I'm remembering Woodstock again."

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Never. It was a disaster."

"We had the best of times, didn't we?"

She smiled back and sang.

_"Well he told me didn't know me that well_

_If only he knew he was my lion and I was his gazelle_

_The circumstances drew the line_

_I was never his and he was never mine."_

Then it was his turn to sing:

_"People come and people go_

_I'll miss you, I want you to know_

_But, oh, how pride it gets in the way_

_If we never speak in my heart you will remain_

_Cause all I want is to know for sure_

_That when I die I lived the best that I could_

_We're all falling down the rabbit hole..."_ He stopped walking and turned to face her, taking her hands in his.

_"So hold my hand and never let it go."_

Now it was her turn.

_"And the pages they are always turning."_

_"As we watch the towers burning...Well it's fast times-"_

_"It's fucked-up times-"_

_"It's beautiful times-"_

_"It's good, good times."_

They both realized it at the same time and sang. _"Oh, good times."_

The music changed and the Doctor was jolted back to the reality of the situation. He let go of her hands and walked forward, keeping his back to her. Ginger noticed the sudden change because she'd felt it too. She stopped in place, finally allowing herself to feel the gravity of the situation.

_"How,"_ Ginger sang. _"Can I forget your love?_  
_How can I never see you again?_  
_How can I ever know why some stay and others go?_  
_When I don't," _She moved forward to take him by the front of his trench coat.  
_"I don't want you to go."_

_"I guess I know by now,"_ the Doctor sang.  
_"That we will meet again somehow."_

She wasn't satisfied with that response and let go of him, angrily wiping away tears.

_"Time can come and wash away the pain,"_ he sang.  
_"But I just want my mind to stay the same_  
_To hear your voice_  
_To see your face_  
_There's not one moment I'd erase_  
_You are a guest here now..._

_So baby_  
_How can I forget your love?_  
_How can I never see you again?"_

The song changed yet again.

"The way I feel about you," the Doctor said. "It's...it's difficult to put into words."

She could hardly breathe. "Won't you try?" she asked.

_"I think I love you like a car crash, dear," _he sang.  
_I don't want your wreckage ball to find I cannot steer_  
_My eyes away now, you know I couldn't stay now_  
_Let me go, let me go_  
_Angels raise accusing eyes, I'm gonna lose her_  
_Let me go, let me go_

_'Cause I might let you break my heart_  
_If mine was all that I was worth_  
_I might let you break my heart_  
_If I don't break it first."_

She smiled sadly at him as she sang back.

_"And maybe I will taste you in another time and place_  
_You look so good, I bet you taste like something sweet_  
_But hell is overflowing and there's no way of knowing_  
_If I give up heaven for one moment will I get it back?_

_I think I love you like a car crash_  
_One wrong move and there's no looking back..."_

_"Let me go,"_ he sang. _"Let me go..."_

_"Angels raise accusing eyes, I'm gonna lose him..."_ she sang.

_"Let me go...let me go..."_

_"I might let you break my heart_  
_If I don't break it first."_

The music changed one last time.

"Should we go now?" he asked her gently.

"Just, just..." she said, softly. "Don't let the song end. For me."

"Alright," he whispered. "So where would you like to go? Just pretend we could go anywhere, do anything. We can live that all in this one moment. A whole imaginary future. Where would you like to go?"

"Wherever you go."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the truth."

She smiled up at him as she sang:

_"L.A. lights_  
_Never shine quite as bright as in the movies_  
_Still wanna go?_  
_'Cause something here_  
_In the way, in the way that we're constantly moving_  
_Reminds you of home_

_So you're taking these pills for to fill up your soul_  
_And you're drinking them down with cheap alcohol_  
_And I'd be inclined to be yours for the taking_  
_And part of this terrible mess that you're making_  
_But me, I'm the catalyst."_

He sang the second verse:

_"When you say love_  
_Is a simple chemical reaction_  
_Can't say I agree_  
_'Cause my chemical_  
_Left me a beautiful disaster_  
_Still love's all I see_

_So I'm taking these pills for to fill up my soul_  
_And I'm drinking them down with cheap alcohol_  
_And you'd be inclined to be mine for the taking_  
_And part of this terrible mess that I'm making_  
_But you, you're the catalyst."_

She sang: _"And you'll be the vein."_

He sang:_ "You'll be the pain."_

They sang: _"You'll be the...scar."_

He sang: _"You'll be the road rolling below the wheels of a car."_

They sang: _"And all of my thoughts are 'God, don't know if I'm strong enough now.'"_

She sang: _"You'll be the vein."_

He sang:_ "You'll be the pain."_

They sang:_ "You'll be the...Catalyst."_

He finished it up:

_"These L.A. Lights, no no_  
_They don't shine quite as bright as back in Frisco_  
_Do you wanna go?_  
_Still wanna go?"_

"No," she said, as the song ended. "I don't want to go."

Ginger reached up out of habit to her necklace. Her eyes widened.

"Doc, where's Candy?" The band of the necklace was still there, but the charm was missing. "I can't leave without Candy, we have to find her-"

"Ginger, you're just stalling for time," the Doctor said, kindly. "I'll have a look for Candy, but...I think you have to let her go. Otherwise you'll end up trapped in Amber just like her."

"What did I tell you about trying to be poetic-" she began, frantically.

"I'll always be here with you, Ginger," he said. "We're...quantum entangled. But it's over now. Time to move forward. But here." He took something from his pocket. "I've got you a new charm for your necklace. Something to remember me by."

"A key?" she asked, looking down at it after he put it in her hand.

"A TARDIS key," he said. "You can use it to find your way home again if you ever need to. Press the little button on the back, it'll bring you back."

"Like a portkey?" she asked.

He smiled. "Like a portkey."

"It's humming," she said.

"Only a Gallifreyan can hear that," he said. "As long as you hear it, you know there's still a home to come back to." He helped her fasten it to the necklace.

It turned out there was one more song in them after all.

"You've got to be kidding," Ginger smiled, trying not to cry.

He sang softly to her.

_"Think of me, think of me fondly_  
_When we've said goodbye_  
_Remember me, once in a while_  
_Please promise me you'll try_  
_When you find that once again you long_  
_To take your heart back and be free_  
_If you ever find a moment_  
_Spare a thought for me_

_We never said our love was evergreen_  
_Or as unchanging as the sea_  
_But if you can still remember_  
_Stop and think of me_  
_Think of all the things_  
_We've shared and seen_  
_Don't think about the way_  
_Things might have been_

_Think of me, think of me waking_  
_Silent and resigned_  
_Imagine me trying too hard_  
_To put you from my mind_  
_Recall those days_  
_Look back on all those times_  
_Think of the things we'll never do_  
_There will never be a day_  
_When I won't think of you."_

The music swelled and she kissed him one more time.

"Don't ever let the music go," he said to her. "Promise me that wherever you go, you'll still hear music. Promise me that you'll never stop singing."

"I'll make the Unbreakable Vow right here if it'll make you happy," she said.

"I've actually got one more thing for you," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out.

"A Vortex Manipulator?" she asked.

"It'll drive you mad being cooped up on Earth," he said. "Traveling is in your nature. I'm giving you that ability."

"I can't take this," she said. "I'm starting to think that giving anyone the power of time itself is a mistake. It's too much power. The Time Lords abused it and...I don't trust myself not to do the same."

"I trust you," he said.

"I know, but you're biased," she said. "Thanks but...No thanks."

They walked past the shops, spotting Alex and Jack through the window of Honeydukes. Ginger smiled.

"You want to go in and join them?" the Doctor asked.

"Nah, let us have one more moment," she said. "I actually was thinking...I'd like a do-over."

"You know we can't-"

"I don't mean us," she replied. "I mean...for the TARDIS. I'd like to do that introduction again, properly. The way I should've the first time when I was still desperately clinging to this idea that I was too cool to react to things."

He understood exactly what she was talking about. "Well, that can be arranged," he said.

...

They returned to the TARDIS and stood for a moment outside the doors, both trying to think of what to say. The Doctor jumped right into her proposed scenario.

"Well, Ginger, this is it. This is my ship. You want to come inside?"

Ginger smiled. "A ship? But that's just a tiny blue police box. No way is that a ship."

"I can prove it to you," he replied, smiling as he whisked open the doors. "_Come with me," _he sang, extending a hand. "_And you'll be in a world of pure imagination."_

Her face split into a wide grin even as she tried not to cry. She took his hand and let him pull her inside. She stopped short just inside the control room while he closed the doors behind her. She took in everything with the sort of wide-eyed awe that she would've in a world where she hadn't been so jaded the first time she did this.

"Woah," she breathed. 

He smiled and watched her. "It's called the TARDIS. That stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space."

"It's...it's _bigger on the inside_!"

He couldn't help but grin, much as he tried. "Yeah, she is. She's also a time machine."

She whipped around to face him. "No way? Are you messing with me?"

"Cross my hearts," he said. "She's a time machine."

Ginger turned her back to him. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah," he whispered, completely unable to tear his eyes away from her or even recognize that there was more to this world than just her.

_"If you want to view paradise,"_ she sang. _"Simply look around and view it."_

He stepped up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

_"Anything you want to do it,"_ he sang.  
_"Want to change the world..."_

She looked up at him with glistening eyes.

_"There's nothing to it,"_ he concluded.

She cast her eyes to the floor, not taking in anything anymore and trying desperately not to cry.

_"There is no life I know,"_ she sang.  
_"To compare with pure imagination."_

He finished the song with her.

_"Living there you'll be free_  
_If you truly wish to be."_

She shrugged off his hand and turned to face him with a watery smile. "Thank you. For the do-over."

"Thank you," he replied. "For everything else." He hugged her. "So..." He thought about adopting an American accent, but it just wouldn't come to him. He'd have to trust that she got the reference without it. "Which of the planets visited did Your Highness enjoy the most?"

She picked up on the Roman Holiday reference instantly and blinked more furiously as she tried to summon the Audrey Hepburn accent. It wouldn't come. She spoke the words in the same Scottish accent she normally did, because this was her voice and she really felt the words even if they weren't her own. "Each, in its own way, was unforgettable. It would be difficult to..." She swallowed then smiled as it came to her. "Roswell. By all means, Roswell." She changed the words to fit her own sentimentality. "But I will cherish it all. Every moment here. With you. As long as I live."

"Which will be a long time yet, Shalia," he said softly. 

She allowed him to hold her a moment longer, knowing somehow that they were sharing the same thoughts even though they weren't speaking them or transmitting them. They were thinking about the end of Roman Holiday. They didn't want this to be that ending, and yet their lives seemed doomed to play out just the same.

...

They finished moving Ginger into Alex's apartment. Alex put out some bread and found some oil to dip it in like the Italians did. They talked and laughed and reminisced. 

"Do you remember how they used to fight?" Jack asked. "Ginger and the Doctor, constantly bickering over something or other."

"Do you remember how fiercely she used to fight against being called a companion?" Alex said.

"That seems like so long ago," Ginger said, ignoring their teasing. "It's funny, though. I never used to want to be a companion, but now I'd give anything...Well, it doesn't matter now. It's too late for that now."

"Why would you think that?" asked Cupid.

"I can't very well be a companion when I'm about to go out the TARDIS door," Ginger pointed out.

"Can't you?" asked Cupid. "Aren't you the very definition of a companion right now?"

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"Ginger, have you forgotten your Latin? What is the root of 'companion'?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten," she replied, nettled by the accusation. "It means..." Her eyes widened as she remembered. "Oh that's _so _on the nose."

"Isn't it?" Cupid replied happily.

"What am I missing here?" asked Alex.

"Companion comes from roots that mean 'together with' and 'bread'," Ginger explained. "The old French word literally means someone who breaks bread with someone else." She looked down at their plate of bread and cheeses. "It's _so _on the nose."

The Doctor looked closely at Cupid. "Can I ask you something? Something I always meant to?"

"Fire away," Cupid said.

"Is this your true form? In Ginger's flashbacks, you were always wearing a different costume or accent. You've only appeared like this to us."

Cupid nodded. "Yes, this is my true form." He smiled. "You can see why I didn't want to show it to people in early 21st century Tennessee."

Ginger nodded. "Yeah, that would've been...not good. For one thing, they definitely wouldn't've let you teach."

"So," the Doctor said as slowly and delicately as he could. "Does that mean you're a shapeshifter?"

Ginger and Cupid both instantly made indignant noises.

"God, that's _so _insulting, Doc," Ginger said. "Honestly, how dare you?"

"What?" he asked, opening his arms in a gesture that completed the sentence for him. "What did I say?"

"Shapeshifting, Doc?" Ginger asked. "Yeah, I mean, all actors want to be _called _shapeshifters, but if people actually _believe _you can shapeshift it's like they're saying that you don't put any effort in and it completely detracts from your work."

"Honestly, Doctor," Cupid tutted. "How dare you? Shapeshifting _indeed_. I made all my costumes myself and spent quite a lot of time applying makeup and hairpieces. I'd appreciate some basic respect."

The Doctor fought the urge to roll his eyes. "You're right, of course, sorry." He made accidental eye-contact with Alex, who smiled at him as if trying not to laugh before looking away. "You know what, though? Watching the two of you together really explains so much about you, Ginger. I can see where you get it from."

"Thank you," Cupid said with a grin. The grin vanished quickly as he glanced at Ginger. "I mean, it is 'thank you', right? I'm not making you uncomfortable...?"

"It's fine, it's good," said Ginger. She'd been secretly pleased as well.

"So you know you'll need a name, right?" Alex said. "We can get Mr. Smith to plant a false identity for you so you can exist properly in our world. Thea will need one too."

"Oooh, I get to pick?" Thea asked.

"Of course," Ginger said.

Thea considered this. "I'll be...Thea Retta Clee." They all stared at her, and her face split into a grin. "Get it? It sounds like 'theoretically'?"

"This is my fault," the Doctor said. "I programmed her with perfect pun fluency."

"I'm joking," Thea said. "I think I'll be Thea...Dora."

"Like Theodora?" Alex caught on.

"Sort of," Thea said, giving the Doctor a meaningful look. "I have other reasons of course. Still need a last name, though. I could be...Thea Dora Inkling."

"That's...sort of adorable," Alex said. "Like a storybook character."

"But what about you, Ginger?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh I don't know..." she said. "I think I'd like to keep being Ginger. Ginger...Olivia?"

"For Olivia Dunham?" the Doctor asked.

"She's an inspiration to us all," Ginger said.

"Still need a last name," Alex reminded her.

"Just think," the Doctor said. "Pick something that makes you happy or makes you feel safe."

"If I could suggest Ginger Snaps?" Jack suggested.

"Is that why you keep calling her Snappy?" Alex shook her head, amused.

"What about Ginger Lee?" Cupid suggested.

"Oh she'd just hate that," the Doctor teased.

But Ginger wasn't listening. She closed her eyes to think about it, and clutched her key in the meantime. Then it came to her just as she said it aloud.

"Roswell."

"Hm?" Alex asked. "What was that?"

"Roswell," Ginger opened her eyes and looked at the Doctor. "That's who I am. Ginger Olivia Roswell."

"It's perfect," the Doctor smiled back at her. "Ginger Olivia Roswell. It's the only name that was ever worthy of you."

"It's wonderful," agreed Cupid, who alone out of the rest of them knew the significance of the name.

"It suits you," the Doctor grinned.

...

The Doctor took Alex and Jack aside.

"Now I want you to understand that you're not in any way responsible for her, but there are a few things you should know."

"Like what?" Alex asked, nervously.

"Just...give her space if she needs it, you know? She needs a lot of space. And time. But don't let her get distant, understand? Don't wake her up in the morning unless you're bringing her food, and even then you should probably knock first. If she starts getting anxious, just turn on some music or Harry Potter or...Actually, I have a list here I can give you. And she only likes smooth peanut butter. She hates whole nuts. She'll eat meat, but only if it's not ground. She only likes blueberries if they're the artificial kind from the 79 cent muffin mix that they sell in America. If you value your life, don't mention frozen hot chocolate around her. She'll also get very annoyed if you have any candles that aren't 'real scents' and please don't even think about having anything that smells remotely like soap. Oh and that reminds me, you might want to skip Christmas especially Christmas songs, and Elvis is a big trigger for her-"

He could hear it now in every syllable he spoke.

** _I love you. I love you. I love you._ **

"Doc, I appreciate how much you want to make sure she's taken care of," Alex cut in. "But we've got this. It'll be fine. She's not alone, she's got Thea with her. Don't worry. She'll be fine."

"I think now's as good a time as any to tell you that we've been hiding something from you," Cupid announced.

"We?" Ginger asked. "Who's we?"

"Myself, Thea, and the TARDIS."

"You've got my TARDIS conspiring against me?" the Doctor asked. "What is it, what have you done?"

"I admit that I thought you might figure it out after finding out that Algoni toxin can cause the user to hear the music of the universe," said Cupid.

"_You _dosed us?" asked Ginger.

"I wouldn't call it dosing you," Cupid said. "That would be dangerous. It was Thea's idea."

"Thea!" Alex protested.

"I apologize," Thea said. "But the Doctor and Ginger weren't talking properly, so we knew if we could force them to hear each other then we could get on with this. I isolated the specific compound in the toxin that lights up the language centers in the brain while taking away the other addictive properties and we ran it through the TARDIS translation circuit. You've all been hearing yourself sing because the TARDIS has been nudging you into auditory hallucinations at moments when you normally would repress."

"That was dangerous, Thea," said the Doctor.

"But effective," said Ginger. "Just...don't ever do it again, please?"

She smiled. "I won't. Promise."

"Oh I almost forgot," the Doctor said, slapping his forehead. "I had a housewarming gift for you!"

He ran back to the TARDIS.

"Where's he run off to?" Ginger asked. "He's not trying to leave without saying goodbye is he, that bastard-"

"No, no, he'll be right back," Alex said, though suddenly she wondered that herself. Goodbyes weren't the Doctor's favorite things, but she could sense Ginger's abandonment issues flaring.

But he did come back, and he brought something with him.

Ginger gasped when she saw it, eyes filling with tears. "The Scooby Doo waffle maker?"

"Because you deserve it," he said.

She hugged him and he hastily handed the waffle maker off to Cupid before putting his arms around her.

He took a few more moments to say goodbye to everyone. It was time for him to leave, and everyone knew it. He kept trying to make an exit, but Alex wasn't ready just yet. She insisted that she give him a present for the road, but didn't have anything suitable. She ended up giving him some random odds and ends from her closet: a straw hat, a pair of sunglasses, and a lei.

"Why do you even have some of this stuff?" asked Ginger.

Alex shrugged. "I think they're leftover from my first year at uni. There was a tropical beach themed mixer and I ended up never using the costume pieces again."

"Never imagined you as the party type," Ginger said.

"I'm not," she admitted. "Sky made me go."

So now it was time. There was no more to say. Despite the fact that everyone had put on their bravest faces, Alex found herself quite overwhelmed by the undercurrent of emotion in the room. The Doctor could sense this and hugged her goodbye.

"Is this where you tell me to be strong?" she muttered. "I'm the man of the house now or whatever and I should take care of everyone while you're gone."

"Nah," the Doctor replied. "You _are_ strong, but you're young. It's not in any way your responsibility to take care of everyone else." He pulled away from her and addressed the room. "But you should take care of each other. All of you. Alex...You should really think about publishing your stories. Just consult with Ginger, she'll clear up some of your bigger misconceptions."

"I think it might be better for my sanity to have some misconceptions, actually," Alex said. "I have a feeling Ginger might want to give me details and I can't handle that." They smiled at each other. "But, hey, Doc? You take care of yourself too, yeah?"

He looked at her for a moment, really allowing himself to see her as the strong, capable woman she'd become. He nodded. "Yeah. I'll do my best." He turned to the door and wasn't surprised at all to see Ginger standing in front of it. "You gonna stop me now, Shalia?" he teased.

She hugged him again. "What am I gonna do now?" she whispered. "You've changed my whole life. Set me free. What am I supposed to do without you?"

"It's like Amanda Palmer said," he whispered. He sang the next part under his breath. _"You don't need me here to cut you free."_ She tightened her grip on him. "But anyway...I hereby release you."

"Oddly formal, since you never had me," she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Well...didn't I?" he joked.

"Dummy," she said, burying her face in his shoulder.

"But anyway," he pulled back and held her at arm's length as he sang the next part. "_The Doctor released you...a case of underjoyed._"

She caught on then. "_No lack of nutrition?_" she sang.

"_I'm afraid it's something you can't avoid_," he smiled.

"_No mental condition?_"

"_Maybe you're paranoid...or maybe you're just bored_."

"You don't think..." she said, coming back to the moment. "You don't think maybe that song is equally applicable to you, Doc?"

"Underjoyed?" he scoffed. "Me? I thought you always said I could never aspire to being so punk and emo."

"I may have changed my mind," she shrugged. She sighed heavily, a great sorrow coming forth from her. "I hope all will be well. We must be patient; but I cannot choose but weep-"

"Don't talk Ophelia to me, don't you dare," he whispered back. "Remember what you promised me. But I do suppose...You remember you were speaking some Ophelia lines to yourself the first night we met. What were those?"

She shook her head. "I don't remember, it was so long ago."

"If I remember right, you were saying 'Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be.' Oddly fitting, don't you think, poor little past human Ginger."

He looked at Ginger.

She looked at him.

They both spoke at once.

"Listen, Ginger-"

"Listen, I-"

They laughed.

"You first," they both said.

"I just wanted to say," they both said.

A pause while they smiled at each other.

"Doctor," she said. "I just wanted you to know...If it's my last chance to say it..."

He could see that this was difficult for her and suddenly knew what she was going to say without a doubt. "Don't," he said gently, shaking his head. "It doesn't need saying. You sang it. It's more honest. It means more coming from you. Besides," he smiled. "I know how much you hate people who speak before taking the time to make informed opinions. I don't want you to say anything you might have to retract when you gain more information. So no pressure. Get back to me when you've taken the time to know for sure."

She smiled at him. "You don't even know what I was gonna say."

"I do," he replied. "Because I was going to say the same thing to you. I feel the same way about you. That's why I'm doing this."

"Yeah," she said. "Me too."

And the others could feel it too. Even Jack, who was neither an empath nor a specialized android, could feel what they were communicating to each other.

** _I love you i love you i_ **

"Oh," Cupid said, sniffling. "Oh dear...I told myself I wouldn't cry..."

"Shut up," they both snapped at him.

As he untangled himself from her, there was a brief moment where their hands were gently clasped together before they parted ways entirely.

"Allons-y?" she said, this time as a question.

"Not this time," he said, with a hint of sadness.

"Just say it," she replied. "One more time. For us."

He looked at the room, smiling fondly at each and every one of them. "Allons-y."

And with that, there was nothing left to say. He turned to go, shutting the door behind him. As he walked away, he began singing, slowly:

_"Empty spaces, what are we living for?_  
_Abandoned places, I guess we know the score_  
_On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for?_  
_Another hero, another mindless crime_  
_Behind the curtain, in the pantomime_  
_Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore?_

_The show must go on_  
_The show must go on_  
_Yeah_  
_Inside my heart is breaking_  
_My make-up may be flaking_  
_But my smile still stays on..."_

He'd made it to the TARDIS, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. There was a brief pause in the music before it started slowly again.

_"Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance_  
_Another heartache, another failed romance_  
_On and on, does anybody know what we are living for?_  
_I guess I'm learning, I must be warmer now_  
_I'll soon be turning, 'round the corner now_  
_Outside the dawn is breaking_  
_But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free_

_The show must go on_  
_The show must go on _  
_Ooh, inside my heart is breaking_  
_My make-up may be flaking_  
_But my smile still stays on..."_

He started throwing switches.

"He'll be alright," Jack said, trying to assure Alex as much as Ginger. "He will. He always comes back."

Ginger began singing softly to herself. _"I don't want to believe...This is the end..."_ She took a shuddering breath, the panic in her rising.

"Now Ginger," Cupid said, knowing exactly what she was thinking. "We mustn't be hasty. Think it through, my dear. Change the ending, remember?"

"I can't do this," she whispered.

"Ginger," Alex said. "What're you-"

But Ginger had thrown open the door and run out into the night, leaving the door wide open behind her in her haste. She stopped just short of the TARDIS when she realized, by way of the fierce wind that picked up and the sound of the TARDIS itself, that she had been too late. She watched the TARDIS disappear until it was gone. And then, still, she stood. Hands wrung in front of her chest and eyes forward but not really seeing.

_"I don't want to believe...I don't want you to leave..."_

The Doctor had gotten the TARDIS into the air and was just letting it hover in the Time Vortex for a moment longer.

_"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies_  
_Fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die_  
_I can fly my friends."_

And he began flying the TARDIS properly to its destination.

_"The show must go on,_  
_The show must go on_  
_I'll face it with a grin_  
_I'm never giving in_  
_On with the show_

_Ooh, I'll top the bill, I'll overkill_  
_I have to find the will to carry on..."_

He finished the song in typical dramatic fashion. The TARDIS touched down and the last burst of the Algoni toxin pushed its way through the TARDIS linguistics system, prompting him to sing acapella:

_"How strange when you face the end, you're more alive than you've ever been?"_

...

"Ginger, are you coming inside?" Jack asked, giving her space but still reaching out with his words.

"I think I'll go to bed," she said, not looking at any of them as she brushed past them. "I can't...I can't be awake any more." As she walked away, they could hear her singing softly to herself: _"Everything...will be alright..."_

"She'll be alright," Alex said, half question, half reassuring statement. "Won't she?"

None of them realized that the Judoon had, in fact, tracked them back to the apartment complex and had been waiting for the right opportunity to strike. But upon seeing the Doctor walk away, they decided to depart. They'd continue to monitor the situation in case he returned, but for now...There was no reason to take her into custody. She'd done the impossible. She'd let hers go.


	52. When You're Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to David Tennant! Your present is having this be the only chapter that you're not in!

It was 3 am and Alex awoke to the pattering of rain on the roof. She was momentarily disoriented before remembering that she'd fallen asleep on the couch. She stretched her stiff limbs before glancing over at her uncle who was sleeping in the recliner. He hadn't wanted to leave either. They both felt it was important to be vigilant. But maybe the worst had passed since Alex could sense that Ginger was asleep. It was about time too. Alex couldn't sense Ginger's emotions as well with the door closed, but the faint impressions that she got had told her that she'd spent most of the night awake in perfect agony.

Alex became aware of light and faint noises from the kitchen and frowned. Ginger was asleep, so who...? She got up to investigate.

"Thea," Alex said, shielding her eyes from the light. "What are you doing still up?"

"Cleaning," Thea said.

"You clean?" Alex asked.

"I am capable of cleaning," Thea responded, simply.

"But at 3 am?" Alex asked. "Shouldn't you...I dunno...enter sleep mode?"

"That would violate protocol."

"Protocol?"

"Protocol 1: Protect Ginger."

"That's a protocol?" she asked, suddenly a bit concerned. "And wait, why does that mean you can't sleep? Like...you can't sleep ever?"

"I can enter sleep mode, just not while Ginger is under suicide watch."

Now Alex was really alarmed. "Wait wait wait! She's under suicide watch? Since when? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"What's with the furtive whispers?" Jack asked, leaning against the doorway. "Do we have a situation here?"

"Apparently Ginger is under suicide watch!" Alex said, trying her best to keep her voice down. "You...don't look surprised. You knew about this?"

"Nobody told me," he said. "But I...guessed. I mean, someone in her condition in the present situation...I figured Thea _had _to be looking out for her. Making sure she didn't do anything rash." He looked closer at his goddaughter. "You're not really surprised? I mean, you can feel what she's feeling. I thought that's why you stayed up too. Trying to make sure she didn't relapse."

"Relapse," Alex repeated the word. "You don't...you don't really think she'll hurt herself again, do you?"

"It's my job to make sure that she doesn't," said Thea. "I'm programmed to be unable to enter rest mode when my sensors detect unusually high distress levels, but I will not intervene unless I have to. Professional boundaries are important or she could end up imprinting on me. She's particularly fragile right now and I don't want to give her reason to develop an unhealthy attachment."

Just then they could hear some disturbing noises coming from Ginger's room. Alex and Jack instantly made to go to her, but Thea stepped in front of them with hands on her hips.

"She's fine," she insisted. "It's a nightmare. She gets them every night."

"She does this every night?" Jack asked.

"Not exactly," said Thea. "Yes she gets the dreams every night, she just doesn't remember them all the time. On a normal day, she'll remember everything but won't make a sound. On a really really good day where she goes to sleep exhausted, she'll remember nothing and won't make a sound. But when she goes to sleep in some kind of extreme distress...that's when she makes the noises. From what I can gather, the dreams get worse when she goes to sleep in what you humans would call a mood."

"Can't we...wake her up?" Alex asked.

Thea shook her head. "Won't do her any good. She has insomnia - and for a Time Lord, that's saying something. They sleep less than humans do anyway, but she takes it to the next extreme. She needs to take her rest where she can get it - she can't start fearing it. We knew increased nightmares were a risk when we started her on EMDR, so we just have to keep pushing through."

"I hate hearing her like this," Alex said. "I always knew she wasn't as tough as she made herself seem...but this is on a new level. I hate that she actually has to suffer like this all the time."

"What can we do?" Jack asked.

"Wait," Thea said. "Give it time. Keep a look out, but don't ever let her know. That's what the Doctor does, anyway."

...

The next day was tough. Alex couldn't seem to entice Ginger to come out of her room or talk to anyone, so when it was time for her to leave for work at the bookstore she felt extra guilty. But Jack promised he'd be there, and she trusted Thea to be on the lookout. 

"Has she come out yet?" Alex asked Jack when she got home.

"It's been 24 years and she hasn't done that yet," he joked back, but Alex could tell he was worried. "Thea says she's alive in there, she's just...well, she used the word 'mourning', which I'm not crazy about."

"Where is Thea?"

"Here," Thea said, popping out from the kitchen. "I'm making dinner."

"You don't have to do that," Alex said.

"If I'm awake I'd rather be useful," she replied with a smile.

"So what's the update on Ginger?" she asked. But she needn't've asked. There were still distinctive sounds of sad music coming from her door.

"It's part of the grieving process," Thea said. "I'm giving her space to heal on her own terms. It won't do her any good to push her this early."

"Ginger," Alex said, knocking on her door. "Thea's out here making dinner. Do you wanna come out and watch some movies?"

"I've been collecting 80s b-movies," Jack said. "I know how much you love those."

Ginger's music was only turned up louder in response.

...

On the night of the 2nd day, Ginger ventured out of her room. She was relieved to see that Jack had gone back to his own place, so she didn't have to sneak past him on the couch. It was after 2 am, so it was technically almost the 3rd day, but she was finally getting an appetite back and didn't actually want to talk to anyone. Thea was in her own room and still respecting professional boundaries, so though she was aware that Ginger was out she didn't come out to interfere.

She dug through the refrigerator for something to eat when she heard a voice behind her say: "There's some leftover Chinese. If you pull it out, I'll warm it up."

Ginger was startled, but trying not to show it. "What are you still doing up, Alex?"

"Couldn't sleep," Alex said. "Decided to eat something. Food is the cure for all problems."

"I think I'll just grab an apple or something," Ginger said. "Don't really feel like sitting around chatting."

"Well good, because I don't really feel like talking either," Alex said. "It's the middle of the night and I'm warming up Chinese. You can either wait and have some that you can drag back to your goblin cave or you can have one tiny unsatisfying apple. It's your choice."

Ginger did have to admit that she was hungry and Chinese food sounded good. "Alright," she said. She reached in the refrigerator and pulled out the cartons, which Alex immediately started divvying up into bowls.

"I'll heat yours up first," Alex said. "So you can don't have to wait before you go back to your room."

"I appreciate that," Ginger said, awkwardly.

"I know you do," she said, softly. There was silence for a moment while the microwave did its thing. "To be honest, I don't feel like making this a big thing either. It's hard enough being around you when you're like this..." She realized what she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"You did," Ginger replied. "And I wouldn't want to make things more difficult for _you, _so maybe I should just pack. Find somewhere else. Because I really don't see this getting any easier."

"Ginger, come on, I didn't mean that," Alex said. "I mean, you've always been a little difficult."

"Thanks. It's not like I haven't heard that before."

"I just mean your emotional state is very...Look, I don't want you to go. I'd rather you be here."

"Where you can keep an eye on me? Keep some promise to the Doctor to take care of me? Because you're not obligated to do that-"

"Ginger, it's not like that," she insisted. "I offered to let you stay here because I wanted to. It had nothing to do with him. I had a free room and you needed it. I find it difficult to be around most people because of how I am, but you can be fun sometimes. And I actually sort of like you most of the time. So don't act like I've got some motive I'm not telling you, because I don't."

"You think you know so much," Ginger said, nettled. "I know you're all out here talking about what you should do with me or whatever. But none of you really understand what this is like."

"You have people here who would listen to you if you'd just stop pushing us away," Alex replied temper flaring. "Jack has lost...so many people. And Sarah Jane has been through something like this with the Doctor too, if you'd even bother to give her a chance! And then there's me. I mean the fact that you really think you're alone in this with me around is insulting."

"Just because you've got some kind of empath thing-"

"Right! The empath thing! Do you know how exhausting it is living like this all the time? It's better with the medication, but everyone else's emotions always feel more real to me than mine! Most of the time I'm too busy worrying about what other people are feeling to let myself feel something! So sure, I might not have been banging him, but that doesn't mean I don't still feel this! He was my dad!" Then she realized what she'd said and lifted a hand to her mouth in horror. "I mean...he _is _my dad. He's not in the past...He's not..." Alex was crumbling, tears beginning to spill from her eyes as she slowly moved to sit on the floor. "You don't know what this is like. I have to be so strong _all the time_. You complain about letting people see you be weak...but I'm never allowed to be. I have to be emotionally responsible for everyone all the time. Who even knows how I really feel? And the worst is that...when he left, he knew. He was so...terrified. And sad. And...resentful. And then I could feel him realize that I could feel all of that and then he felt guilty. And he pulled away. People do that when they realize I can feel it, they push me away. I'm the strong one, taking care of everyone but having nobody to talk to. He's my dad. And he might be gone forever." The bitterness entered her voice again as she looked up at Ginger. "But no...I couldn't possibly understand the grief you're going through. It's not like you and I ever had anything in common besides being weird little foster brats nobody wanted."

"I forgot," Ginger said, honestly.

"That was stupid of you," Alex said, scathingly.

"It was," she admitted, moving to sit next to her. She considered explaining herself before remembering that she didn't need to. "I'm sorry."

She didn't know what else to do, so she put her arms around Alex and sat with her for a time, both of them crying. When they had gotten it all out, Alex was the one to pull away first.

"I'm still starving," she said. "I'm going to have to re-reheat our Chinese food."

She handed Ginger her bowl first and let her go to her room, but Alex was going to stay up a bit longer. Ginger had been eating for a few moments when she heard the softest music coming from the other room. Familiar music...

She peeked her head out of her room. "Are you watching Holy Musical Batman?"

"Yeah," Alex said, surprised. "It helps me calm down, but I can turn it down if it's bothering you."

"You mind if I join you, actually?"

Alex was surprised, but figured she shouldn't be. "Sure."

...

"I don't understand," Alex said the next day. "I thought she seemed like she was getting better last night. But I haven't seen her at all today."

Jack nodded and knocked on the door. "Ginger? It's Captain Bighead. Can I come in? I really need to talk to you."

She opened the door a crack. "Trying to get me to let you in my bedroom?"

"I just want to talk," he said, peaceably.

She looked at him steadily for a moment, before nodding and backing away. He kept his distance initially, knowing how skittish she was.

"Nice place you've got here," he said.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about?" she sighed, plopping back down on her bed. "I'm not really in the mood to talk. I only let you in because I thought this would be an Alison Hendrix to Felix Dawkins conversation."

"I appreciate the trust you put in me, letting me in here at all," he said, earnestly.

"Yeah well..."

"Do you mind if I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the end of her bed.

She shrugged. A moment later he was lying on the opposite end of the bed with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

"I never asked you," she said. "How are you alive? I asked Doc, but he didn't know."

"I don't either," he admitted. "I figure I'm alive for a reason, though. And maybe this is part of it. Making sure you stay alive."

"Not sure I want to be," she admitted.

"I've been there."

She sat up and looked at him. "Yeah, I remember you saying that."

He could see the troubled look in her eyes. "What?"

"Nothing," she said. "Just...I _hate _thinking that you've ever felt like this. But at the same time, I feel..."

"Less alone?" he proposed.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. That's horrible, isn't it?"

"I think it's normal," he replied. "As normal as things can get for us, anyway."

"I just wish I had some way to talk to him, you know?" Ginger said. "I just wish he wasn't out there all alone."

"He's not alone," Jack said. "Maybe in the technical way he is, but he knows he's got you. So he's not alone, not really. And I want you to listen to me, Ginger. You are not alone. You're not. So you don't have to suffer like you are." She didn't answer, merely looked at him sadly, so he pressed on. "Listen, I've wanted to mention it before, and maybe this isn't the right time to tell you given how you're feeling...But you said that you were a Category One?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I was. Why?"

"Well, because that means it's sort of my fault you're still alive," Jack replied. "And I hope you're getting to a point in your life where you don't feel you need to forgive me for that."

"What do you mean?" Ginger asked, sitting up properly to look at him. "You mean you had something to do with the Miracle?"

He nodded. "It had to do with my blood. Someone used it to create the Miracle. If it wasn't for me and what I had to go through when they harvested it, you wouldn't still be alive. And I've felt the same way you have, that I'm being kept alive for something. Maybe it has to do with you, in some way. Because I resent my immortality so much most of the time. You can't imagine yet what it feels like to watch everyone come and go seemingly in an instant. But I've never been so relieved to be what I am as I was when I found out that you're alive because of the Miracle. I know it's caused you pain, but I hope someday you'll feel as happy that you're still here as I am."

"We're all so connected," Ginger said. "All of us. None of this has been an accident, it's all been so carefully arranged...I don't know that I'm happy I'm alive, but I'm happy to have known you."

"Did I ever tell you about Ianto?" he asked. She shook her head. "Not surprised, I haven't said the name in years. It's still difficult."

"You don't have to talk about it if it's too difficult."

"But you'll understand," Jack said. "In a way. And if it makes you feel less alone...Maybe it's time."

...

She came out of the room a little after this and began making herself a sandwich. She noticed Alex watching her anxiously.

"Hey Alex?" she asked.

"Yeah?" Alex asked, nervously.

"You realize your bread is like...really fucked up, don't you?" She held up a piece of misshapen bread. "Like this is the ugliest bread I've ever seen."

Alex laughed with relief. "Yeah, I know."

Ginger was quiet for a moment. "This Ianto guy," she said, softly. "He was pretty great, huh?"

"Ianto?" Alex repeated, surprised to hear the name. "Where did you...We don't _ever _say that name out loud..." She realized what must've happened. "Jack told you?"

"Yeah," Ginger said. "What he could, anyway. I asked him to spare me _some _details."

"Wow," Alex said, taking a seat at the table. "That's a big deal."

"Yeah," Ginger replied. "I'm beginning to get that."

...

A knock came at the door later in the evening. Alex, who had been expecting pizza, opened the door.

"Oh," she said. "Hi."

"Is it the pizza?" Ginger shouted from the sofa. 

"I dunno," Alex said, peering at the visitor as if scanning him for signs of a pizza. "Is it?"

"I'm afraid not," Cupid said. "I thought she might be ready to see me now."

Ginger stood up at the sound of his voice. "Cupid," she said. "What're you doing here?"

"I would've come sooner," he said apologetically. "But I had things to take care of."

"You have weird teleporting powers," Ginger pointed out. "You could've taken care of them sooner."

"I know," he said. "But you needed space. I wondered if you might feel up for taking a walk?"

...

Cupid and Ginger walked to the nearby park.

"Uh..." Ginger said, staring around at the people who were walking nearby. "Cupid...Why are they wearing medical masks? Is that the new fashion? What did I miss?"

"The year is 2021, correct?" Cupid asked. "You're about a year into a pandemic."

"_What_?" she shouted. 

"You'll be fine, Alex has assured me that the two of you were given universal vaccinations. Smart bit of thinking on your part, insisting on that."

"So what is it? Smallpox?"

The corners of his mouth twitched. "I know you were very worried about Smallpox after that film you watched as a child. But no, it's something that even you couldn't predict. Ask Alex about it, she'll fill you in. You're not going to like what you hear, let me just warn you."

"You've been gone a while," Ginger said. "I sort of expected you sooner."

"I know this is a difficult time for you," Cupid finally said. "I didn't want to encroach on your mourning."

"Mourning?" Ginger asked, anxiety rising at the mere mention of the word. "Why would you say 'mourning'? Do you know something I-"

"I don't know anything," Cupid replied. "I'm sorry, I should've specified that. I didn't come with any news."

"Oh," she said. "Then why did you come?"

"To help," he said. "I regret so much not being able to be there for you when you needed me as a child."

"Why weren't you able to be there?" she asked. "I don't fully understand any of that."

"You're not meant to, at least not yet," Cupid said. "And maybe you never will fully. That's the trap of childhood, is that there never is any good explanation for why we are the way we are. Every answer spawns more questions. There will always be holes in our understanding because you can only fully know yourself, you can never know why the people around you did what they did. But to answer your question, the Trickster can choose to end my existence at any moment. The Trickster's Brigade waits around every corner for a sign of my betrayal to their cause. Which is why I'm here to tell you that I'm going on the run, at least for a while."

"What? No, you can't. I mean, you can't just come into my life then disappear like that!"

"I assure you, I don't want to," Cupid replied. "I've let you down enough, and this is a particularly fragile time. But I'll be here when you really need me. Thea has a way of contacting me, but we need to save it for emergencies. Suffice it to say that the Trickster is realizing that his little game has failed, which makes the Corsair and I targets."

"The Corsair?" Ginger asked. "Why her?"

"She meddled, as did I," Cupid replied. 

"But you meddled before," she pointed out. "You're both on speaking terms with other Gingers."

"But they weren't the primary universe that the Trickster was interested in," Cupid replied. "The Trickster wants access to this one, and if he can get revenge on the Doctor in the process, that makes it sweeter. Just understand that I wouldn't be leaving you if my life wasn't in danger, so please don't be angry with me."

She couldn't help but be taken off guard by his emotional plea. "Angry? Why would that matter?"

"Because I care about you," he said. "And I know that you feel as if I'm abandoning you, but I'm really aiming for it to not be forever. I'm always around being the world's worst guardian angel." He looked at her, seeing right through her barely maintained emotional walls. "You know, you'll always be that little girl to me. The girl who made lists of pretty words like 'perplexed' and 'inviolable'. The girl who would sit with me after school and ignore her homework because she was so focused on writing a short play based on Harry Potter. I was always so proud of you. You were always my brightest star."

"But I let you down, didn't I?" Ginger asked, taking a seat on a bench. "I didn't do anything with the skills you taught me."

"I didn't teach you those skills to have you do anything with them," Cupid said gently, taking the opportunity to sit next to her. "That's the mistake that the Queen of Hearts made. She thought that to get anyone to care about you, you had to be impressive. You had to be the most talented, the most eye-catching, the most attention-grabbing. Don't get me wrong, I felt pride in her as well when she won album of the year and I'd be proud of you if you ever wanted to put your talent to use. But I wish you'd perform the way you did as children - for yourselves, for the love of it - not for the sake of turning your life into a performance. You should live full, rich lives."

"But you can't tell me," she said softly. "You can't tell me what the Doctor is doing? You can't tell me why he's out there alone and I'm here?"

He smiled at her sadly. "I can't, I'm sorry." He endeavored to change the subject. "But do you want to talk about something else? How about we speak about why you were jealous of Alex when you found out I'd been spending time with her."

There was a teasing edge to his voice that she found familiar and comforting, so she reluctantly smiled. "It was only for a moment. I know it was stupid. I don't even understand why."

"I think I do," Cupid offered. "You got so little time with me and I was never allowed to be emotionally close to you. Do you think I didn't always notice you not-so-subtly seeking my approval as a child? So I got to be a little closer to Alex for a little while, but she never needed me like you did. Not that you ever needed me, but-"

"I did," she admitted. "I always did. But I learned to do without. Got by on my own. I just wonder if maybe you were stuck guarding the wrong kid. I mean Alex was _actually _a good kid, but you got me instead. The autistic kid who got into fights and had the potential for evil."

"Ginger, I wasn't stuck with you," Cupid replied. "I cared about you from the moment I met you, I told you that. All the things about you that you thought were drawbacks were nothing of the sort to me. The Doctor isn't the first person to look at you and know exactly what you are and love you because of it. I took that job as a theatre teacher because I knew you were autistic and thought I could help you blend better, though I really do resent anyone who ever told you that you should have to. I thought I could select plays that would influence you to think critically about the future choices you would be making. But it became more than that for me. You were extraordinary, an incredible presence for such a young age. And I saw how much you struggled in every other aspect of your life. So I was happy to give you one place where you could be free to be yourself." He looked around as if suddenly noticing where they were. "Do you remember the Autumn Festival? Must've been in, oh...2003?"

"The Autumn Festival?" She hadn't thought about those in years. The little suburb she'd grown up in would have an outdoor festival every year in the town square. "Yeah, why?"

"I was just thinking about how uncomfortable that bench was," he said.

She smiled as she remembered the day he was talking about. "Yeah, well, craftsmanship wasn't their strong suit."

"We were sitting there just like we're sitting here now..." He mused.

"Not just like now," she reminded him. 

"It was similar in its own way," he replied. "You'd had a difficult day then as well."

She thought back to the day in question. "My life is just a series of difficult days."

"And I'm sorry about that," he replied. He suddenly began to chuckle. 

She was surprised and perplexed by this reaction. "What?" He didn't answer. "_What_?"

"I'm just thinking about how fierce you were even at that age," he admitted. "You'd been playing Lady Cassandra that day, as I remember?"

"Yeah, that's right," Ginger grinned nostalgically. "I did so much research for that part."

"I kept telling you you didn't have to," he reminded her. "It was just a one-time bit part at the town festival. It was likely to be controversial, with the implications of sorcery I was willingly enabling you to make. But you really got into it. Learned palmistry and other arts."

"I learned a Welsh accent for it," she replied. "Why was Cassandra Welsh, I don't remember?"

"Nor do I, really," he admitted. "I'd never been allowed to speak Welsh or exist in my true form around you. That was forbidden. But you got it into your head that you were a modern Celtic myth-"

"-Which is slightly ridiculous since I stole the name from a Greek tale," she acknowledged. 

"-and you hadn't learned a Welsh accent yet, so you wanted to try. I saw it as a loophole. You didn't ask to be taught Welsh, you asked to be taught a Welsh accent. So I taught you that." He chuckled. "I remember I was at the table putting down my smores pie that I'd baked for competition, the one you kept asking if you could try just a little piece but I wouldn't let you because I wanted to beat out smug Mrs Haywood.What did those old crones even say to you to provoke that reaction?"

Ginger smiled as she remembered. "They were never very nice to me," she recalled. "But they thought I didn't know. Old southern ladies act sweet and nice but they're really just talking about you the moment you have your back turned. Mrs Haywood had spent the whole day talking loudly about me behind my back. She was _so _concerned about my soul or the way I was dressed or the way I walked." She chuckled. "Yeah, I remember this, she kept talking like I couldn't hear her even though she was definitely within earshot. She said something about how I always spoke like I was in a race with the devil."

Cupid's eyes lit up. "And you turned around and shouted, still in character with the full Welsh accent just perfectly done, 'Well at least I get somewhere, like to a bloody point! You old ladies talk like you've got nowhere to be, which makes sense 'cuz you've got nothing better to do than stand around gossiping like schoolchildren! Get a hobby or at least have the decency to not talk like I can't bloody hear you! Because it's getting _boring_!"

They both laughed. "Lady Cassandra didn't play. God, I really was always like this, wasn't I?" Ginger asked.

"You were, and it's my favorite thing about you," Cupid admitted. "Those ladies raised quite a fuss. They wanted to immediately go find your foster parents, but I promised I'd go talk to you."

"And you found me sulking on that bench," Ginger recalled.

"You weren't sulking, you were _fuming. _If you hadn't been so afraid that you were gonna get in trouble, your blood would've been boiling. You snapped at me to go away."

"I said, 'if you've come to yell at me, I'm gonna get enough of that at home, and I meant what I said so fuck off.'"

"Such a bold thing to say to one's teacher at the tender age of twelve."

"And you said, 'I actually came to give you pie.' You pulled out two spoons and sat down. I said, 'What are you doing? That's the pie for the competition!'"

"And I said, 'I've decided that those old biddies don't deserve it. I've come to share it with the one person who does.'"

"And I said, 'I'm not in trouble?'"

"And I said, 'Oh you will be later, but not with me. Why would I admonish you for such a spectacular performance?'"

"And you shared the pie with me. You were such a _bitch _then. I remember being particularly surprised because you always seemed so nice to everyone all the time, but you just sat there and gossiped about the things you knew about those old busybodies."

"I went to church with them," Cupid said, gravely. "I mean I had to for my cover. I had to establish trust in the community so I'd be trusted to watch you after school without everyone thinking there was something wrong with it."

"God, it just occurred to me how that _definitely _would've thrown up red flags if it had been any other man being friends with a young girl," she said. 

"I know," Cupid replied. "I've had that same thought a million times. How if it had been anyone else with my particular abilities, they could've misused them for nefarious purposes. But do you remember what I said to you that day, when we shared the pie?"

"No," she lied. She did, but she didn't want to admit how much it had meant to her at the time.

"You were so confused about why I wasn't upset with you for shouting at Mrs Haywood," he reminded her. "You knew you'd been rude and you expected punishment. But I told you that I admired your courage in standing up for yourself. It was something I hadn't felt brave enough to do at your age. And I couldn't've been prouder if you were my own daughter and if I had any say in the matter, you'd get adopted by someone who would pay the right amount of attention to you. I slipped and said I had half a mind to do it myself."

She nodded, blinking back tears. "But you didn't."

"I didn't. But what you don't know is that I was heavily considering it. I knew you'd never been treated right, not in your whole life. I knew why you'd chosen Cassandra, of all names, for this character. I knew that people never listened to you or believed you. And I knew it would only get worse. I didn't know exactly what was coming, but the vague details I had were telling me it wouldn't be good. I had strict orders not to interfere, but I almost thought it might be worth the shortened lifespan we'd both have if you could have some time spent with someone who cared about you and really saw you. But I was a coward. I suppose that I, like the Doctor, was just exactly who you needed me to be at the moment but not at all who you needed in the long-run. We both enable you and continue to do the wrong thing by you." He swallowed hard, and she watched him as he stared directly ahead with unseeing eyes. His vision was too full of the past. "I did notice that in your flashbacks, you rushed past everything that happened after the unfortunate Christmas incident. Why's that?"

"Honestly? I don't remember too much of that. I was a bit out of it. I sort of...drifted through life until I met the Doctor. That's what gets me about it." She smiled at him. "I guess if you'd like to think of it this way: You gave me a voice, but I lost it. He gave it back to me. Showed me there could be more to life."

"And there still can be," Cupid said, looking at her. "This isn't the end. You are such a big character. You don't really fit into the role of sidekick."

"Can I ask," Ginger ventured, tentatively. "Where it all went wrong?"

"Where what went wrong?" Cupid asked, though he knew. This conversation always happened with Gingers.

"Why am I different?" Ginger asked. "You keep saying I always was, so when did you know that I would be able to beat the cycle the other Gingers were in."

"I didn't," Cupid said. "I had faith in you. You were my Ginger, from my universe. The one I raised. I believed in you, just like the other Cupids believed in theirs. I tried to give you a childhood that would be different from the other Gingers, but I only found out later that by trying without all the pieces, I'd done exactly what the other Cupids did before me." He looked away. "I don't expect any sympathy for what I've gone through, because my cowardice has given you so much worse-"

The next words out of her mouth surprised her because she hadn't realized she was going to say them. They were unfamiliar words, words that almost didn't make sense to her. It was as if she was speaking a truly foreign language. "I forgive you."

He looked at her with eyes full of surprise and hope. He'd never been afforded this luxury, certainly not by a Ginger. He was aware that he was receiving something rare and wondered if he was at all deserving of such a precious thing even if it only held any value to him. "You do?" He couldn't've heard her right. Gingers don't forget and they don't forgive.

She nodded. "I do. I forgive you. But on one condition."

His eyes were full of sincerity as he answered. "Name it."

"You take care of yourself. I've been on the run for most of my life and I know what that does. Try to be safer than I was. I understand that you didn't have many choices before - neither did I - but maybe we know better now. Maybe we can do better now."

"I promise," he replied. "It's funny that you should say that, though, about choices. You weren't different from your other Doppelgangers, not until the day the Doctor came back for you and you said no. You're different from the other Gingers for the same reason that they're different from each other: You make different choices. You just started making different choices earlier. I'm sorry I can't tell you that you alone read Harry Potter and developed a sense of morality or that you had a different upbringing. I wish I could tell you that I'd done anything at all differently and it was my..." He struggled for a word that wouldn't scare her off. "Care for you that changed it. But I'm not your Marjorie. The Corsair is out there now trying to find even a tiny butterfly flapping its wings that could've given you a different outcome, but I don't believe she'll find it. You considered going with the Doctor the first time you met him, right?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I wanted to go very badly."

"But you didn't. You were tempted, same as all the others. But you talked yourself out of it. You asserted a boundary very early, which made it easy to assert boundaries going forward. I think that's what did it. It's funny because I spent that time arranging things in Ancient Rome, planting false prophesies so you could rescue that young boy-"

She raised her eyebrows. "You did that?"

He nodded. "I did. You always go there. You always hear the prophesy and seek me out, demanding answers for your past. But you didn't do that there. I waited patiently, so patiently for you to find me. But you didn't. I had to find you, and even then there was very little you wanted to know...You made different choices. You're different _because_ you made different choices. I'm sorry I don't have a better answer for you."

"No, actually, I like that one," Ginger said. "Because everything else about this has been out of my control. I like the idea that I had a say over the outcome at least."

...

"Good talk with Cupid?" Alex asked, a note of anxiety entering her voice.

Ginger finished washing her hands. "Yeah, guess you could say that." She noticed Alex watching her hands. "What?"

"Nothing," Alex said quickly. 

"Were you watching me wash my hands?"

She shrugged. "Sorry. Paranoia. If it's any consolation, you washed them for the proper amount of time."

She raised her eyebrows. "Yeah. You were timing me?" Then it dawned on her. "Oh. Cupid said there was a pandemic on. Saw people in masks outside."

"Yeah, it hasn't been fun," Alex admitted. "Still think society got started a bit too quickly. Especially in America. Experts kept _saying _there would be a second wave, but President Trump insisted-"

"Wait wait, _what_? President _who? _Don't tell me they actually _elected _that sentient trash bag? I lived in New York, we all know he's just a racist windbag!"

Alex realized how much her roommate had missed. "You might want to have a seat. World events have sort of turned into a soap opera while you were gone...Well, to understand how we got to Coronavirus, you have to understand what happened during the 2016 election and Brexit...Actually, I'm going to give myself an existential crisis if I try to explain all of this. Do you want to watch 4 years worth of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver?"

"Perfect!" Ginger said. "He's very well sourced and I generally find his breakdown of the news extremely comforting, so that'll help."

"He gets less comforting," Alex warned. "He pops off a few times. They let him say 'fuck'."

"Even better."

...

Ginger kept getting slowly better after that, even though things were rough. Jack came over a lot to watch bad 80s b-movies or binge Crazy Ex-Girlfriend with Ginger. Alex was very often exhausted when she got home from work, so didn't join them. It took Ginger a while to catch on to the reason why.

"Alex," she said delicately, catching up with her in the kitchen while they grabbed snacks between movies. "How do you pay for this place?"

"I work," Alex said. "It's a struggle, but I make it work."

"Should I, I dunno, help more? Get a job or whatever?"

"Yeah, I mean, if you want," Alex said. "I'll admit it's been difficult to make ends meet sometimes."

"Why didn't you ask me to help out if you're struggling?"

"You're having a hard time," she said. "And you're so anti-capitalist, I didn't want to insult you-"

"I'm anti-capitalist, but we live in a society," Ginger said. "I must play by the rules so I can live to fight another day. I'll get a job. I'll help."

"Okay," Alex said. "I mean, I guess now that our rent isn't frozen anymore, it would help."

"Our rent was frozen?" Ginger asked.

"For a few months," Alex said. "When the quarantine first started, Sky and I both didn't have jobs for a few months. We could barely leave the flat. So I organized a rent strike in the building-"

"Wait, wait, _you _organized a strike?" Ginger was floored. She was impressed, but also completely surprised.

Alex grinned. "Yeah. I thought you might like that. It was the right thing to do. I don't feel like it went far enough, if I'm being honest, but it did its job."

"I'm so jealous!"

She raised her eyebrows. "You're jealous of a global pandemic that caused an economic collapse?"

"No, no, that part is horrible," Ginger replied. "I just wish I'd been there to fight! A _real _rent-strike! A protest!"

"We've done protests," Alex reminded her.

"Yeah, but I always knew how they were gonna turn out," Ginger said. "They were never my fight. I narrowly missed being part of a fight for something that was _relevant _to me! I can't believe Alex Mitchell got to be in a real modern protest before I did!"

"And we won too," Alex said smugly. "Temporarily, at least. I still catch the landlord giving me dirty looks when he sees me. Oh did I cut off your little income, Mr Landleech? So sorry that you couldn't keep bleeding us dry or turn us out into the street, Mr Landleech!" 

Ginger put a hand to her heart. "Landleech?"

Jack took this moment to shout from the living room sofa. "Careful, Alex. Protests get her hot."

"So what?" Ginger teased back. "I have a thing for revolutionaries! What's wrong with having a type?" She turned back to Alex and rolled her eyes. "Seriously, though. Better be careful, Mitchell. I dig a chick with a cause."

Alex picked up on the teasing and rolled her eyes in response. "Yeah, well, try to keep it in your pants. I'm not about to be your Clara Lemlich or Nellie Bly."

...

"You should be an entertainer," Jack said. "I mean, we've all heard you sing. Come on, we should get you to an audition."

"I can't," she said. "I can't...call attention to myself."

"Why not?" he asked.

"I'm not...ready to talk about it yet. Is that alright?"

"That's fine."

...

Ginger found a job she could stand - being a columnist for an online magazine that allowed her to write articles about any topic that was on her mind. That gave her broad license to churn out pieces reviewing music, movies, tv, books, politics...anything she wanted, all while hiding behind her laptop and collecting a paycheck. It wasn't a perfect existence and didn't satisfy her entirely, but it had to be enough.

All this without so much as a word from the Doctor. Time moved forward.

...

The Corsair didn't have to turn around to know who was following her.

"Cupid sent you. Didn't he."

"He's worried you might go off the rails again," R.H. admitted. "The truth is, I've checked in with the Counsel. I have new...well, I won't call them orders. They're bringing your rogue status up for review."

"Up for review?" she raised her eyebrows.

"That's a dramatic way of putting it," the Red Herring admitted. "What we really mean is that you've been doing your own thing on your own for far too long. The others have requested you partner with me until we bring the Queen back for her trial."

"'The others have requested...'" she repeated this back. "So I take it this is not your idea? No. Of course not. This is them meddling again."

"He did say something about being concerned that we isolate ourselves too much," the Red Herring admitted. "Not even trying to hide that they're trying to make us work together so we don't get detached from the work."

"You sound less happy about it than I am."

"We could always choose to go our separate ways. We've always been informal. There's no such thing as orders."

"No, if he thinks we should work together, then I think we should keep that under advisement. You're clever and you know how she thinks - since our goals just so happen to align this one time, I see no reason why we shouldn't combine forces. No rational, reasonable reason anyway. At a certain point saying 'I don't work like Gingers' starts to sound prejudicial. At least that's what I've learned lately."

"That's settled then."

There was a pause. "But..." the Corsair said, slowly. "Something else...isn't?"

The Red Herring came dangerously close to having yet another near facial expression as she sighed and said: "You didn't...tell her, did you? The other one? The one you said is so different?"

"Did I tell her..." Cora didn't immediately get it. "Oh. No. Of course not."

"But if she's so different, then why not? Surely if you have faith that she can do the right thing here, then she can control it. Or are you afraid she'll do what the Queen did if she finds out?"

"I was afraid of that," Cora admitted. "At first. But now-"

"Then is it the drugs?" She raised her eyebrows. "You've said using substances makes the process very unstable and can be very risky. Are you afraid she'll hurt herself?"

"Also a bit of that...But less and less so...I just think, genuinely...that she shouldn't know yet. She's unstable. If I tell her now what she's capable of...I don't think she'll take it to the Queen's extreme, but it could end badly all the same. And I wouldn't wish that on them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are, nearly there. I'll return next week for the conclusion.


	53. The End

Jack found Ginger sitting in the kitchen with her laptop in front of her. "Whatcha doing?"

"More relevant question is what are _you _doing, Captain?" Ginger said absently. "This isn't exactly your house."

"Came over to visit Alex," he said.

"So why aren't you bothering her?"

"Because it's more fun bothering you right now. So what are you working on?"

"Finishing touches on a review of another generic Marvel movie."

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you liked Marvel."

"I do. That doesn't mean that most of their movies aren't generic as hell."

"I liked your last one about Jennifer's Body," he said. "You're right, it's a massively underrated movie. So what will you work on next?"

"I dunno, maybe Cheers?"

He made a face. "Why?"

She looked up. "You don't like Cheers?"

"Have you ever seen Cheers?"

"Nope. That's why I thought it might be next."

"You're going to hate it. Mark my words, Roswell, you'll hate it _so much._"

"Well now I definitely have to watch it."

Jack decided now was the time to come to the point. "Listen, there's an open mic night soon, now that pubs are starting to reopen. I thought maybe we could all go. Maybe do some karaoke..."

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Oh I dunno, Jack. That might not be a good idea..."

"I think it's a _great _idea," he insisted. "It's a little place, dimly lit, no one will even recognize you. Besides, didn't you promise the Doctor that you wouldn't stop singing?"

"I did," she admitted.

"And have you been keeping that promise?"

She sighed. "No, I guess not."

"I think it's time," he said. "Don't you?"

...

Ginger looked around the dimly lit pub. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"You'll love it," Jack said. "This is what you were born to do. You can't just lock yourself inside all the day, nitpicking everyone else's art. You've gotta get out there."

The Doctor watched from a dark corner as Ginger took the stage, putting an acoustic guitar off to the side as she slung the strap of an electric one over her shoulder. The Doctor noted with some amusement that she was wearing dark jeans and a shirt that said "Girls don't like boys: They like aliens and Dana Scully". He found himself briefly distracted, though, by a small commotion near the bar.

Thea was sitting alone at the bar watching Ginger as well. It was beyond her professional duty to be here, but...she was trying to understand.

"Buy you a drink?" a man asked, sidling up to her.

"I don't require refreshment," Thea replied.

"Just cutting to the chase, then?" he asked, putting a hand on her thigh. "I like that in a woman."

Thea still didn't take her attention off of the stage as she grabbed the man's hand and roughly twisted it away from her. "No thank you," she said absently. She wasn't paying attention, so she didn't notice the nasty sprain that she'd given that man's finger.

"Ouch!" he said. "You're not that pretty anyway, bitch!" He started to walk away, still unnoticed by her when he bumped into the Doctor. "Careful, man. Think this is one of them frigid dyke bitches."

"I'll take my chances," the Doctor said. Then he turned to Thea. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I'm trying to understand," Thea replied, without looking at him. "What you said before. About me never understanding music. I'm trying to understand."

"I hope you do," was his reply. "How are they?"

"Much better. My plan worked."

"Your plan?"

"Getting them to move in together. They both needed the same thing, I just had to manipulate the situation to get them to understand that."

"You always did think outside of your parameters."

A Welshman with striking blonde-and-pink hair materialized next to them. "That's the running theme of our girls, isn't it? A set of parameters that they consistently defy at all costs."

"Cupid," the Doctor said. "You came after all."

"Of course I did, my dear boy," he said. "I wouldn't miss her debut for the world." He looked around the bar in disapproval. "Though this is hardly a fitting locale. I suppose it'll have to do." He looked at Thea. "Have you told him yet?"

"Told me what?" the Doctor asked.

Thea knew instantly what Cupid was referring to. "Ginger has very vivid genetic memories of the Master - a man who, I'm told, she's never actually met. She's had intermittent trouble all her life with nightmares and migraines, and I believe those genetic memories to be the source. The therapy seems to have helped. She says she doesn't have those symptoms anymore. We had a particularly grueling session where we pressed on despite her persistent headache and the most astonishing thing happened. We brought to the surface of her mind a persistent drumming. An echo, she called it. We pushed through the noise and she said it was like something broke. It was gone. It hasn't returned since."

"It would have to go somewhere though, wouldn't it?" he asked.

"What?"

"Those are some very deep-rooted genetic memories if they can cause all that," the Doctor said. 

Cupid grinned. "You're very quick, has anyone told you that? Oh yes, you are _indeed _the perfect match for her, with a mind like that...Ginger developed a leak, just a small trickle when we were releasing the echo. I don't know where it went, but I expect it will have rippled down through the fabric of reality. I'd look for an increase in nightmare activity for a short time, wherever it lands."

Something suddenly made sense to the Doctor. "Ah. Well. That's good to know."

"Testing, testing," Ginger said into the mic. "Alright, cool. Right. So, my roommate knows I practice this song every day, but I'm still not very good at it. I figure if I sing it every day, it'll come true at some point. My, uh, friend Thea's gonna boot up a karaoke track that has everything but the lead guitar and vocals, so I'm gonna follow along. "

Thea used her Bluetooth function to remotely connect to the karaoke system and start the track. Words lit up on the screen behind Ginger.

**Hands Off Gretel**

**"Alien"**

**Lead Vocal Removed**

**Lead Guitar Removed**

The song was upbeat and very rock-n-roll. Very like Ginger, but the Doctor had expected something a bit sadder from her. He was glad to be surprised.

_"You are everything to me_

_Everything I want_

_You give everything to me-_

_I'll be your girl-_

_I'll be your girl!_

_Life has never been so great_

_Nobody can bring me down_

_I love it when you burn for me-_

_I'll be your girl!_

_I'll be your world!_

_My alien!_

_Lifeform!_

_My alien!_

_Your love just enough_

_Fill my empty little cup_

_Baby come and feel me up!_

_Use your gun I might explode!_

_You are everything to me_

_And even when I feel down_

_You can make me feel so great_

_Cuz I'm your girl_

_I'm your whole world_

_And everything is just so great!_

_I will never feel sad_

_I will never cry again_

_Cuz I'm your girl_

_I'm your whole world!_

_You're my little alien_

_Tell me will we meet again_

_I will never find a friend_

_Or a lover in the air_

_Happy_

_Never felt so sad_

_Knowing_

_It'll only end_

_Tell me_

_We'll meet again_

_I will never find a friend_

_Tell me, will we meet again?_

_All the world will never see_

_The love I have for you and me_

_They will never understand_

_I love my little alien_

_Let's build a world, just you and me_

_You're my little alien_

_Tell me will we meet again?_

_I will never find a friend_

_Or a lover in the air_

_Tell me_

_Little alien_

_Will we_

_Ever meet again?_

_I will never find a friend_

_Like you_

_My alien_

_Lifeform_

_My alien_

_Lifeform!_

_Your love just enough_

_For my empty little cup_

_Baby come and feel me up_

_Baby come and feel me up_

_My little alien_

_Take me to a better world_

_I'm sick of this one_

_I'm sick of this one!..."_

The Doctor watched as she sang the song, knowing he was running out of time but feeling as if the sound of her voice gave him all the strength to hold on. The song was just so much like her. It reminded him of all their best times together.

When the song ended, he joined the smattering of applause. Ginger looked out at the crowd, not really able to discern faces through the gloom. "Thank you," she said.

Cupid approached the stage and Ginger was able to recognize him immediately. She smiled in spite of herself.

"You came?" she whispered to him. "Is it safe?"

"I wouldn't miss this," Cupid replied. "You're doing wonderfully, simply wonderfully." He backed away, took a seat near the stage, and motioned for her to go on with the show.

"I'm taking requests," Ginger said. "Anyone have one?"

"Believe," a voice said from a shadowy corner table. The Doctor recognized that voice as Alex.

Ginger rolled her eyes. "My flatmate, ladies and gents. She's trying to call me out because I said that Voltaire's song 'Believe' was an alright song but I could make it a great song. So she dared me to learn how to play it to prove it. So I did. Are you sure? That one's a bit depressing."

"Go on, then, unless you're scared," Alex teased.

Ginger sighed. "Alright. Sure." She got up and switched her electric guitar for an acoustic one. "There won't be a karaoke for this one, of course, so I'll just do this whole thing acoustic."

She started strumming a melancholy song.

The Doctor realized that Alex was alone at the table. Jack had gotten up to flirt with a pretty little twink near the bar, so the Doctor made his approach while she was still alone.

"This one's for you, Doc," Alex said to him, without even looking. "I felt you come in. I knew it was you...No human could ever feel that much."

"You could," he reminded her. The Doctor didn't like the silence that fell between them after that. "So I see she's still not gotten over her need to be the center of attention." He nodded his head at the stage. "Still...it's better than pulling teeth."

She chuckled to herself; their own little private joke from long ago. She knew the correct response. "Pretty much anything beats the root canal." She waggled an arm in a vaguely vine-like motion. "She likes this place, though. It's dark, seedy...You can't really see the audience and the lighting is bad on the stage so no clear pictures can be taken..."

He smiled fondly. "That's Ginger for you. Ginger Roswell: Queen of the Cryptids."

_"Did you find what you were looking for?"_ Ginger sang.

"Wasn't expecting you to be here, to be honest," Alex continued. "I didn't prepare myself for it."

_"And did you hear what you needed to hear?"_

"I always turn up just exactly where I'm not expected," he said.

_"And did I serve you well?"_

"But I can't tell..." the Doctor continued.

_"Did I serve you well?"_

"Are you happy to see me?"

_"Did I serve any purpose?_  
_Any one at all?"_

"I'm still… trying to decide whether you'll look different when I look," Alex said.

"Not yet. But I will. I wanted to prepare you first."

"Not just physically though. I mean… how am I supposed to deal with that. But on top of that…" She trailed off, hugging her arms around herself. "You're not the same. Already, you're changing. I can tell."

"We're all changing. All the time. We evolve or we die."

_"Did you come for redemption?"_

"We adapt..." he said.

_"Or a resurrection?"_

"You've already changed so much."

_"Perhaps a bandage for a gaping wound_  
_I know I put one there_  
_Or perhaps you were bored..."_

"It's not…" Alex just sighed. "Whatever. You'll just say it's the same."

"I wasn't sure about coming here," he said. "I wanted to see you one more time. But I wondered if that was selfish. Making you go through feeling all this. I worried it would be too much. I could go now, if you need me to."

_"A crown of thorns would suit you well_  
_You hang there at a loss_  
_A crown of thorns would suit you_  
_I'd shake your hands if they weren't nailed to a cross_

_I don't want to believe_  
_(This is the end)_  
_I don't want to believe_  
_I don't want to believe_  
_I don't want to believe_  
_I don't want you to leave..."_

"Guess it's getting to be time," the Doctor said. "I've already been delaying this regeneration too long."

Alex spoke so softly. "Do you have to?"

"The alternative isn't any better."

"Why can't you just… stay here? Don't go anywhere else."

"I'm not certain how to take that exactly, Alexia. Do you want me to just stay like this forever? Never changing? Because that certainly does remind me of someone we both know. But if you mean to stay here, in this physical place...Like I said, I've delayed it too long. Everyone here will get hurt when it happens. And I don't want to see you get hurt because of me."

Alex still hadn't looked at him once in all this time. She sounded quietly furious as she said, "What if I don't care?"

"Then that's too bad, because I do."

"That's too bad as well, because I don't want you to go. So you're going to have to stay, because I said so."

"Alright, then I'll stay. Just a bit longer. But then I have to go, you understand?"

She didn't speak this time, only grunted. It wasn't really a yes or a no.

"I thought so," he said. "You know, I was wrong. Before. About you having changed so much. In some ways you've not changed at all. You're still that same teenage girl I met all those years ago - the same one who stared monsters in the face without so much as blinking but kept all of us in her periphery. Always afraid if you looked at us directly then we'll disappear. It's a useful trick in a world with weeping angels-"

She looked up at him then, eyes sparkling with fresh tears and a childlike vulnerability on her face. "But people are more blink and you'll miss them," she finished the sentence, remembering the first time he'd ever said that to her. "Well it's not working. See? I've not blinked yet and I already miss you. I'm like..._pre_-missing you."

"There, now, don't do that," he said, trying to be soothing. "It's like I always told you - just because people change doesn't mean they change their minds. I promise I'll be back. Cry if you need to, but don't be sad for me. I've had a full life, and now I'll have even more. I'm so glad to have met you."

"Yeah. Me too."

He pulled her to her feet and hugged her briefly, and it almost made it worse in a way. She could feel him trembling as he was struggling between wanting to comfort them both and protect her from the hurt he was feeling.

_"A crown of thorns would suit me well_  
_I hang here at a loss_  
_A crown of thorns would suit me_  
_I'd lend a hand if it weren't nailed to a cross_

_I don't want to believe_  
_I don't want to believe_  
_I don't want you to leave me here_  
_Nailed to this question mark_  
_I don't want to believe_  
_I don't want to believe_  
_I don't want you to leave_

_And is that, is that all?_  
_Is that, is that all you wanted?_  
_Is that, is that all you wanted me to know?_  
_Is that, is that all you had to tell me?"_

"You've been extraordinary," the Doctor said, pulling back and holding Alex at arm's length. "I want you to know that, Torchwood. Truly extraordinary."

Alex was trying to be brave enough to deserve that old nickname even when blinking back tears. "Yeah, I know." She was furious with herself that the admission didn't come out as teasing as she meant it to. She'd just sounded sullen.

"Right," Ginger said, taking a shaky breath and trying to regain her composure and pretend she wasn't feeling like crying. The room was very dark so she hadn't noticed anything that had been going on in the audience - she was having her own private moment. "I'll take one request, then I'll get off the stage. This is my first time singing in front of people in a long while so...Yeah. Not really sure what to do with myself."

The Doctor let go and winked at Alex. "I've got a request!" he shouted at the stage. 

Ginger's hearts skipped a beat, recognizing the voice even before her eyes met his across the shadowy room. "I can't believe that song worked…" she said, absently.

"Accio Doctor," he said, forcing a grin that turned into more of a grimace. He pulled completely away from Alex then as he made his way up to the stage. "Dying man's last request, then?" he muttered to Ginger once he got there.

"You're here…" she said, the very fact of his presence shaking her to her core. "You're not dead."

"Prophecies are funny things," he said vaguely. "Come on now, we're running out of time."

Then Ginger understood what Alex had picked up on immediately. "You're regenerating."

"You can put down that guitar now," he said to her. "The first song was good - funny. Do me a favor though and don't spend your whole life waiting for me to come back. Try to live a little in the moment. And that second one...Bit disconcerting hearing the biggest X-Files fan say she doesn't want to believe." The Doctor punched something into the karaoke machine. "Ah, of course they don't have it. Nobody has Shirley Manson's old stuff. Thea, could you help us?"

"What are you doing?" Ginger asked, as Thea came up to help.

"Guess you figured out that Thea is a portable karaoke machine and wi-fi hotspot. As if I'd ever leave you stranded." He looked at Thea. "Establish a link with the speakers, would you? And play this song..." He mouthed something so Ginger couldn't hear, but Thea was able to decipher it and get to work accessing the file. 

"I know this isn't a duet, but…" the Doctor put his hands to Ginger's head to transmit some information. "You understand?"

She nodded, not taking her eyes off him. Her hearts sank as she understood exactly what he was trying to convey.

The song "The End" by Angelfish began playing. 

Ginger began singing first.

_"Anyone_

_Who's shaken dust_

_Knows that it should fall back_

_Harmless_

_It's over now_

_Things have changed_

_Everything is different_

_And rearranged_

_We never got the way that we should go_

_Tears and heartache, nothing more_

_I had to play grown up in our game_

_That wasn't fair, that was the worst thing…_

_And if didn't say this was the end_

_You would still be here now_

_We wanted to be out of our heads_

_In all that we could do."_

The Doctor took the second verse.

_"Daddy didn't buy you a diamond ring_

_And mummy's still waiting for better things_

_Baby's on his own now he's qualified_

_Remember I was there on his down days_

_You'll do good and you know that too_

_If I can give them I will do_

_Mummy's gonna buy you a brand new life_

_Mummy's gonna buy you a brand new life_

_And if I didn't say this was the end_

_You would still be here now_

_We wanted to be out of our heads_

_In all that we could do."_

The tempo picked up and Ginger struggled against the powerful urge to cry.

_"Born leaders, no, no,"_ he sang.

_"We are not born leaders,"_ she sang back at him._ "No, no, never grow up."_

They sang together. _"Born leaders, no…"_

_"Should my hands be still,"_ he sang.

_"Should my eyes be dry?"_ she sang.

They finished the song together.

_"And if I didn't say this was the end_

_You would still be here now_

_We wanted to be out of our heads_

_In all that we could do_

_And if I didn't say this was the end_

_You would still be here now_

_We wanted to be out of our heads."_

The song ended with their arms intertwined over their microphones, Ginger unable to stop herself from silently crying. The Doctor tried to force a smile.

"Mic drop," he said, releasing his microphone.

Ginger instinctively scrambled to catch it before it hit the ground. "What the hell?" she snapped, feeling irritation rising within her. "You can't just treat sound equipment like that..." She realized this was a distraction and looked up to see him walking briskly away. "Oh no you don't!" She hastily put the microphones back on their stands and rushed after him, following him out into the dark alley behind the pub.

"Wait, what do you think you're doing?" she shouted. "You can't just saunter in here like that and then just disappear!"

"I said what I needed to say in a way that you would understand," he replied, pausing just before he could reach the TARDIS but keeping his back to her. 

"Such a bloody cop-out," she said, scathingly. "It's not very 'Come What May' of you."

"That sentiment applies as well." He took a step toward the TARDIS.

"Wait," she pleaded with him, her voice growing small. "Where are you going?"

He turned and smiled at her. "It's like Amanda Palmer said, isn't it? 'I don't know where I'm going. I just know that I'm heading from the dead things piling up behind me.'"

She shook her head. "You're not allowed to talk like that. This is...the closest thing to a miracle I can imagine. You can't come back just once, you have to come back again. You can't abandon us. I won't allow it."

"Ginger, this is important, I brought you out here to talk and I...I may have wasted too much time already with the theatrics. So I need you to be quiet for once while I try to explain what I know."

His serious tone gave her pause. "Alright," she said.

"Your nightmares were real," he said. "I'm not talking about the parts you experienced or the typical dream nonsense - the bits about the Master."

"The Master?" she asked. "What are you-"

"He was back," the Doctor said. "Resurrected. But now he's really dead. And I want you to know - the dreams, or at least the parts with him in it, were real. And you weren't high or crazy when you saw all those people turn into versions of him. He'd grafted himself onto every human on the planet."

"Wait, slow down," she said, struggling with this bombshell information. "It can't've been every human. _I _was genetically human at the time."

"A few were spared," the Doctor explained. "Only two that I knew of. But Cupid keeps saying there's something different about you, and I'm inclined to agree. You have some kind of built in defense mechanism. But the point is that you had some kind of genetic memory, deep inside your DNA, that possessed particular imprints of him. The Master, I mean. They were so strong that they had to be manufactured somehow."

"Doctor..." Ginger began. "When you saw him-"

"I didn't tell him - or anyone - about you." He knew exactly what her concern would've been.

"Thank you," she said. "Don't tell anyone about me. It's probably not even safe to tell the world about Alex. We just sort of need to keep our heads down, you know?"

"So you really hate it?" the Doctor asked. "This planet, I mean? Sick of it already."

"There are things worth sticking around for," she smiled. "But if anyone asks, you're the last of the Time Lords. I don't want to be the Master - trying desperately to control everything all the time. I have more empathy for Cora's situation now, but I don't want to be her either. I don't even want to be you. That's too much responsibility. And it's not like they would've accepted me as one of their own even if I'd let them."

"What are you then? Don't tell me you want to go full human?"

"Ew, no," she laughed. "Just say I'm...ethnically Gallifreyan, culturally Earthling."

"I like that," he smiled. But then he doubled over in pain and she found herself running to steady him.

"Doctor-"

He put up a hand to stop her. "Stay back."

She stopped in her tracks. "Is there any way I can help?" she asked.

"No," he said. "And I don't want you around this time when I regenerate. I've been holding it back too long, it could kill you when it finally happens."

"But-"

"Don't tell me you're going to argue with me now too?" He was being as patient as he could be. "I've been to see everyone else, tell them goodbye. I waited as long as I could to see you."

"I'm glad you did," she said. "I missed you, I...Dammit, Doctor...I just wanted-"

"That's good," he smiled. "Good that you're wanting things again. I remember how hard it was for you to do that. But now you want things and you know how to verbalize that. That's amazing."

"I just had to find something worth wanting," she said.

He grimaced through the pain. "Maybe I'll pop back in time. See little Ginger. Tell her a bedtime story, do something to make her life a little easier-"

"No," she said. "I know this sounds insane, but...No. Don't do that. Don't alter the timeline for me. Cupid told me that I'm different because I make different choices. If you go back to see me, that alters the timeline. Then I'm either different because you changed things or you alter things further. Plus I'm the subject of multiple fixed points. If you go back, you'll just want to change them. I want the past to be different too...but I need to know I'm different because I chose to be. I need to have that small amount of control over my life, since nothing else has ever been in my control. Promise me you won't go back?"

He nodded. "I promise."

"Have you...Have you seen her yet? Rose?"

He just shook his head, the pain being too much.

"Then you have to go," she made up her mind. "Even just to see her from afar...you've got to see her first."

He smiled at her and reached up to wipe away her tears. "There, now, don't cry…For Shaggy's sake, you've got to cheer up." He chuckled, latching on to a reference she'd like. "Your Doctor says you've gotta sing a happy tune."

Her pulse quickened even as her heart broke. "...My Doctor?"

He blinked. "No, that's not what I meant, don't be stupid." He smiled at her softly. "It's just a song."

"It never is, is it?" she said, fondly. "They always mean something. But it's about time for this one to end." She stepped back, away from him.

"I guess it is," he replied. "Someone said something to me recently about the end of time...Well, I guess it is now. But just the end of this time. There will be others. We can't hold on too tightly to what's past, we just end up ruining it as well as the present."

…

Jack had abandoned the young twink at the bar when he'd heard the Doctor's voice, and he'd returned to Alex's table to watch with her as he sang the song with Ginger. After they'd left the stage, Jack had loudly debated whether or not they should go after them, but Alex said nothing. She was overwhelmed, she hadn't moved from the spot where the Doctor had left her. She'd watched that whole display from him and Ginger with no small amount of pain on her end. She could feel it all. Everything she was feeling, all the fear and sorrow that Ginger was feeling...and then on top of that all was the massive meltdown she felt from the Doctor.

It wasn't exactly like a smell, or a taste. That's just how she prefered to describe it. It made the most sense aloud that way. Writing brings with it all the pretentious metaphors and descriptions.

A part of it is like fire. A part of it is like ice. A part of it is like rot, like an old building beginning to decay and grow mold. Not quite a poison - something more natural. Something that just occurs eventually. It's supposed to. Nothing lasts forever.

It isn't exactly like colours either, but she likes to apply colours to moods and images and… well, all of it. Interpreting it all is easy, happens automatically like breathing, but - again like breathing - becoming aware of it, acknowledging it, means you have to make sense of it.

Alex decided it was yellow, for the most part. A sickly yellow like wet wallpaper from the 70s. Or like jaundice. Or a smoker's fingernails.

Yellow as the sun. Brighter. Hotter. Just as dangerous.

He was burning alive and she could _feel_ it.

Part of it is like tea and oak and coming home. Part of it is like a school chemistry lab. Part of it is like… like… Soap? Maybe bleach? Fitting, as she knew that Ginger particularly hated the smell of soap.

Now all of this, she could maybe deal with. All of this, she could push aside. Parts of it are a little familiar. Comes with iron and meat and copper. The part that hurts is…

Is…

He wasn't ready, even then. He was acting calmer than he felt. That was not acceptance, that was resignation.

Alex had heard his hearts beating. They didn't sound different, but to her they did.

_He's not leaving. Not in the way it tends to go. He'll be back._

But he won't. That's why she was so afraid. The Doctor - no. Her _father_, the man who was practically more family than her family, the man who made her better, was going to walk away. Who's going to come back?

_What if you come back someone so different that we won't be family anymore? When you change, will how you think of all of us change too?_

So she stood rooted to the spot. Trying to give him space to say whatever it was that he needed to say to Ginger before the end...which was a load of bunk, if she was honest with herself. Alex being the martyr again, pretending that she was doing this out of care. But she was just scared. Scared of her own vulnerability. Scared that if she said goodbye...then it would _be _goodbye. Saying things makes them real. Like an incantation.

If he's going to insist on doing it alone, then he can go right ahead. She asked him to stay, to have someone at his side, and he understood and said no. So to hell with him.

The Doctor can go off and die alone for all she cares.

Alex cares a _whole. Fucking. Lot._

The Doctor can go off and die alone in the name of protecting her from his hurt. So to hell with him.

Screw his pain. They are still connected. Forever.

"I've made a huge mistake," she said.

Jack stopped talking mid sentence. "What?" But it was too late, she'd already rushed away.

Cupid put a gloved hand on Jack's shoulder to stop him from getting up. "Give her a moment. She'll call for you when she needs you."

Alex tore through the room towards the door that she'd seen him leave from, hoping that it wasn't too late. She'd always thought it was silly, those dramatic movie scenes where one person races against the clock to tell the other person how they feel before they get on the plane...but she suddenly understood it. She'd never forgive herself if he left and he never knew what he meant to her.

She threw open the outside doors and felt relief spread over her to see him still standing there speaking with Ginger.

"So you'll be going then?" Ginger was asking him. "Time to move on with our lives?"

"Life is for the alive, my dear," he said, a grin making its way across his face. "So let's keep living it."

She nodded and smiled, understanding his reference completely. "Let's keep living it." She wanted to kiss him then, one more time, but-

"If one of you doesn't throw the other into a furnace then the reference doesn't really work," Alex said, trying to come off as more composed than she was. "Ginger's made me watch that one at least 5 times in the last few months so I've got to say...using it as a romantic thing is kinda weird."

"No weirder than anything else we've ever done," Ginger said, getting her own composure back.

"That much is true," Alex agreed. "The pair of you...are just too weird. And I thought growing up with Uncle Jack had made me desensitized to weird. Speaking of Jack, I didn't notice you say goodbye to him. Why's that?"

"I already sent him his goodbye present," the Doctor said. "We never had much use for words."

"Was it a pretty little twink?" Alex asked, with a watery smile. "Because he likes those." They both chuckled. "So am I interrupting? This is the part where you tearfully make out and promise that you'll be together one day when the stars align, right? That's how these teen romance dramas work, yeah?"

"Nothing so corny," Ginger laughed, though her hearts were breaking. "I doubt the two of us ever could be together. We're just...not right."

"Aw, so no secret code, then?" Alex teased. "No silly reference that I won't get that you'll hold onto until the day you finally get together?"

"No, I don't think-" The Doctor doubled over in pain again, and Alex could feel it as if it were her own. "Stay back," he said, holding out a hand. "I don't want you to have to feel this."

"That's not your choice, is it?" Alex said, walking towards him. She could feel it scalding her, but she didn't turn away. She'd done that her whole life - turned away from things that caused her distress. She was sick of that. Sick of turning it off. "Dad, I'm sick of you all trying to protect me like I'm fragile. I'm not. I'm here. I'll always be here. You're all so full of contradictions - you always rely on me too much for my instincts but then back away when I get close to anything. Somehow you've painted me as the strongest daughter and the weakest creature and I'm...I'm sick of it. I'm always alone in what I feel. So is she." She nodded at Ginger. "So is Uncle Jack...So are you. Can't you open up? Just once? And just for once I won't try to fix it, I'll just be there."

"Alexia Mitchell, my brave girl-"

She hugged him then, not absorbing all of his pain but letting it rush through her. "Gotcha," she whispered, voice breaking as tears streamed down her face.

He took a deep breath and pulled away. "I'll do better," he promised, smoothing her hair away from her face. "In my next life. There'll be no more children left behind. No more little girls left to suffer. I promise you both. Cora may have had her reasons for letting everything that happened to you two happen...but that ends now. I can't fix your lives or what happened to you. But I can make sure it never happens to anyone-" He doubled over again and Alex caught him. "I've got to go. It's time."

Nobody knew quite what to say, so he turned to go. He got close to closing the door behind him when he poked his head around one more time.

"Actually, Ginger, on second thought," he said. "Not to give either of us false hope, and I definitely don't want you waiting around holding your breath but...maybe we shouldn't give up on us quite yet. Maybe someday, far in the future, when we've grown up, we could work."

Ginger scoffed. "That's unlikely, we're both completely intolerable."

"You know there's one place I always wanted to go," he mused. "Someday, if we ever feel that way for each other...Promise you'll meet me there?"

"Where?" she asked, shaking her head. "How will I know where to go?"

He smiled. "It's terribly simple, really. Turn your watch back about a hundred thousand years."

She caught on, suddenly flooded with fondness and nostalgia. She nodded. "Alright, if that's what you want. I'll meet you by the third pyramid."

"I'll bring the orange popsicles and lemonade." And with one final grin, he shut the door.

The TARDIS began to disappear.

"He's completely mad," Ginger grinned up at the sky, tears streaming from her eyes. "Completely out of his mind. Completely mixing up his B-52's songs like that. Absolute madman. He should know better." She looked over at Alex, noticing she was being weirdly quiet. "Alex?"

Alex couldn't stand it anymore. She couldn't stand understanding, even when it was all she really wanted. She clutched both hands to her head and _screamed_.

She understood, yes, she understood. But that didn't make it better. That didn't make it hurt less.

The Doctor was dying. Burning, rotting, molding, and reshaping. Flaking and splitting and tearing and growing and _burning._

And Alex made sure she felt the whole damn thing.

Ginger ran forward and put her arms around Alex as they both crumbled to the ground. Ginger squeezed her tight as if sure that if she let the pressure off even a little then her friend would split at the seams entirely.

Jack heard the screams from the alley and ran out at once.

"What happened?" he asked, devastated beyond words to see the two of them in this state. Especially Alex, who was always so strong and stoic. "Are you hurt?" 

Ginger only had to say four words to make Jack understand. "Alex felt it all."

He nodded. "Ah."

...

They'd decided they weren't in the mood for more karaoke, so they just went back to Alex's apartment. They were sitting around having tea (Jack had something a bit stronger). Alex wasn't speaking much, she was just sitting staring into space like a shell-shocked soldier.

"He's just expecting us to move on," Ginger said. "Telling me to sing a happy tune...Like I've just got a bunch of those lying around. I can't fake it like that."

"Maybe they'll get easier," Thea said. "Start with a small one and work your way to something brighter."

"It's just hard, wondering if he'll be the same when he comes back," Ginger admitted. "I've got to admit that part of me thinks he'll come to his senses and realize that I was never..." She realized she was giving away too much and broke the thought off mid-sentence.

"If it helps any," said Jack. "He regenerated while he was with Rose, and it didn't change anything with him. He's still the same person with the same feelings. Neither of you have anything to worry about."

"And it's not like he's gone," Thea reminded them. "He's coming back, he said so. But he also said not to keep waiting for him, didn't he? I think that was smart. I think you girls need each other right now."

"I don't need anyone," Ginger scoffed.

"Just think about it," Thea insisted. "I wasn't there, but from what I understand...You both had, shall we say, tumultuous childhoods. Both developed _weirdly _similar ways to cope with that. Then you met the Doctor and...You didn't immediately trust him even though you, Ginger, had this weird link with him from the dawn of time and you, Alex, had empathic instincts that would've told you to trust him if you could've listened to them. And he told you both that he'd come back and neither of you ever trusted that or expected that. But then he did. Over and over again, he did. So he became the most important person in your lives and now you're grappling with losing that connection. You might've come at this in entirely different ways, but it makes sense that you'd both be feeling gutted by this."

"Yeah, I suppose," Ginger said, bitterly.

"I'm just saying that you don't need to keep holding on to what you had in the past," Thea said. "It's time to hold on to hope for a future."

Ginger reached up out of habit to clutch the key around her neck. "I'm not really the type to hold on to anything, unless it's outdated references or grudges..." She trailed off, frowning.

"Ginger?" Alex said, recognizing the change in her. She was afraid it might be another mood swing, since Ginger was more prone to those lately what with her EMDR. "What's wrong?"

Ginger ripped the key off of her neck and flipped it over, pressing the button on the back over and over again. "No," she whispered. When she spoke again, her voice rose with every word. "No, no, no, no, _no_!"

"Ginger, what is it?" Jack asked.

"It's not working, I can't feel it, it's not working!" She got up to start pacing, still frantically pressing the button.

"Ginger, take a deep breath, explain to us what's happening," Thea rationalized.

She ran out into the backyard until she was in the exact spot that the TARDIS had disappeared from all those months ago. "Take me back!" she shouted to the sky. "Take me back!" She sank to her knees.

Then Ginger was crying again, still desperately pushing the button. "I'm supposed to be able to feel it! As long as the TARDIS is still there, I should be able to feel the key humming! But I can't feel it! It's gone! I pressed the button to take me back and...The TARDIS is gone. That's the only explanation. Something happened to the TARDIS which can only mean...I think something's happened to the Doctor. I think the Doctor is dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we've done it! Made it to what is, in my mind, the season 1 finale! I'm gonna wait to see the response before I announce definitively if we're being metaphorically picked up for another season, but just know...I have a lot more Ginger stories. Oh so so many with many Doctors and many companions. As always, I'm always looking for ideas for new adventures, so if you have any or would like to work on some, we can work something out. I prefer writing as a collaboration, and always do better with a writing room.
> 
> Wow. So we got this far, huh? Emotional, wild ride that it was. When this story began in August of 2010, it was a 6 part series that ended in the most codependent way possible - Ginger died but was absorbed into the heart of the TARDIS to travel with the Doctor forever. It was excessively emo, but I was 15 years old. I've come to have empathy for my writing at that time, because it was coming from the heart of an abused autistic teenager. I fully bought into the idea that happy endings were stupid and unrealistic, because I expected to be dead before 18. But here I am. On my Rebirthday (also known as my Regeneration Day). And I'm giving you this part of the story. Because I understand now that Ginger shouldn't die. That's not the right message. There was always more to it than that.
> 
> We'll explore new themes and ideas in future "seasons". Different relationship dynamics and personal arcs. It won't always be fun, but this was the hard season. We get the trauma out of the way, now we heal. That's the message of these fics - the healing. We just do it while at the same time calling out popular romance tropes as well as taking back ownership of the emo, excessively damaged self-insert oc. Because real people do exist with these traumas and we need to know we can live and things will get better. Even if we sometimes relapse, it's part of a cycle and it's not our fault. We grow and get better.


End file.
